


Birds of a Feather

by Otter and Fox (Uzaya)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uzaya/pseuds/Otter%20and%20Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two months after Kida's departure Ikebukuro has grown quiet. The gangs have all but vanished, and humans don't thrill the great Orihara Izaya like they used to. In his loneliness, Izaya is surprised by the most interesting human he knows: himself. Shizaya. (abandoned, reposted fic from FFnet)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hurriedly, Akiko rounded the nearest corner, her breath coming in short, labored pants. Far above her, thunder rolled in the dark sky and, behind her, the sound of footsteps was growing louder and louder until it rang out clearer than the noise of the storm.

She stumbled over a pile of trash as she ran down an alleyway, and it was all she could do to keep from crying out in pain as the movement jostled the laceration along her side. Just as she thought that she had finally reached a safe place, a high wall seemed to rise up out of the darkness, trapping her in the alley.

A dead end.

The girl turned around, looking about for something, anything she could use to defend herself.

At the mouth of the alleyway, Akiko could hear her pursuers sprinting through a large puddle, coming ever closer to where she was only barely hidden by darkness.

"Where'd that bitch go?" one of the men asked in frustration, and – with a startled jump of her heart – she could hear him tapping an aluminum baseball bat against his foot.

"She couldn't've gone far," replied one of his buddies, "This alley's a dead end."

There was a moment of tense silent before the man who had just spoken snapped at the others.

"Well? Go find her!"

Akiko's heart clenched in fear, and something like a scream was trying to claw its way out of her throat.

Just as the small group started to make its way towards her, Akiko dove against the wall of the alley, hidden by a trashcan and a pile of bags. If they just didn't come all the way down the alleyway, she would be fine. She was going to be okay, she was-

"Oh? What are you doing here?" she heard a low voice chuckle over her, "Did you think you could hide?"

Akiko's head snapped up in horror as she gaped at the man standing beside her; her hiding spot hadn't worked out after all.

"No, please!" she cried, doing nothing to stifle the sobs and screams that had been threatening to escape since this chase had begun.

The girl had no idea what she had done wrong. The day had been like any other. She had gone to school, and then walked home with her kouhai so she could tutor him. She had left his house at the same time she always did, just as the sun was beginning to sink, with plans to stop at the grocery store for her mother before she got home.

And that's when the group of young men had noticed her.

"P-please!" she begged, "I don't even know what I've done!"

Pain ran along her spine, and Akiko's vision momentarily blurred for a moment, returning just as she collapsed on the rain-soaked cement. Her dark eyes peered up fearfully as the man over her raised his baseball bat once more.

"You stupid bitch, you think we'll let someone off easily if they beg? No one gets away with messing with us!" he laughed, and his friends were beginning to collect around him, all wearing sinister grins.

"I didn't do anything!" shrieked Akiko, "I don't even know who you are!"

"Aw, you've already insulted us, little girl, there's no need to add lying to your list of wrong-doings," chuckled the man, and the others echoed him.

Akiko saw one of them pull a knife from his jacket, and that baseball bat came up again. A small gasp left her lips, and she didn't even have time to raise her arms over her head in an attempt to defend herself.

Only two minutes later, there now lay a bloodied mass of flesh where there had previously been a horrified girl. Blood ran freely from the corpse, trickling down the girl's skin and pooling on the ground where it was carried away by the rain, creating a large, pale red puddle around the men's feet.

As the others busied themselves with cleaning their weapons, the man who had spoken before pulled a can of spray paint from his coat, grinning widely to himself as he popped off the cap and shook it.

A soft hiss accompanied the green paint that moved along the wall over Akiko as the man quickly drew the familiar figure. Though the paint was streaked slightly from the downpour, the shape was unmistakable.

Over Akiko's corpse was now a green, smiling skull and crossbones.

"Alright, boys, it looks like we're done here," said the man cheerfully, pocketing the paint and reaching to take his baseball bat from one of his accomplices.

The group left almost as quickly as they had come, but just as they left the alleyway, the head of the group paused for a moment to turn around and survey their handiwork with a self-satisfied grin.

Laughing now, he hurried to catch up with his friends.

" _No one_ crosses the Farewell Rogers, you stupid bitch!" he called over his shoulder.

-

Orihara Izaya was bored.

No, that was putting it mildly. If he were being honest with himself, Izaya would put himself somewhere between listless and downright depressed. It had been two months since Masaomi had left, and yet Izaya hadn't accomplished nearly as much as he would have liked as far as expressing his love for the humans of Ikebukuro went.

Well, really, in two months time, he hadn't accomplished _anything_.

The Dollars had once more slipped into blissful obscurity, the Yellow Scarves were quiet – if not nonexistent, and any remaining members of Blue Square had either moved out of town or now did their best to live like regular civilians.

Needless to say, Izaya wasn't having any fun.

With an almost heartbroken sigh, Izaya clicked out of the chat window on his computer screen. No one was online right now. How was he supposed to play with any of his beloved humans when he couldn't even talk to them? It made sense that all of them had better things to do than chat at two in the afternoon, but still! He needed something, even just a little chat room, to take his mind off of the void he felt.

But, of course, when he needed them most, his humans had abandoned him.

Sighing again, Izaya shifted where he sat in his chair so that he could rest his head against the arm he had sprawled across his desk. He narrowed his dark eyes at the small calendar that stood beside his monitor, honing in on one day in particular.

Most of the surrounding dates were filled in with appointments or personal plans – of course written in a shorthand only Izaya understood; he couldn't have Namie knowing what he was up to all the time – but one day was completely empty. Day four of May stood out mockingly, emphasized by the bright red circle that surrounded its emptiness.

Giggling a little too loudly for the silent office, Izaya muttered under his breath.

"Well, isn't that special~? I've nearly survived another year. How exciting!" the man clapped gleefully a few times, and his giggling increased a little in volume.

But his laughter suddenly ceased as he gave the calendar a particularly dirty look.

"But I really don't need you telling me how old I'm getting," he sneered at the little calendar accusingly, glaring for a moment longer before he burst once more into cackling.

"Not that I'm not enjoying your constant lapse in sanity," interrupted an irritated voice, "But some of us are actually trying to work here."

Grinning broadly, Izaya turned his attention to where Namie stood on the second story pulling files from his expansive bookshelves.

"Eh, Namie? This is my office, and I'll be as noisy as I like," replied Izaya with a happy smirk on his face, "Besides, one of us needs to laugh sometimes. And seeing how you're so serious, I suppose I've gotta laugh enough for the both of us."

Izaya fell silent once more, fixing his employee with a blank stare as his smirk vanished from his pale face into a tight line.

Namie scowled at the man and went back to fishing papers out of the file she currently held cradled in one of her arms. It was silent for about half a minute before Namie glanced down and saw that her employer was still watching her with that empty expression on his face.

"What on earth are you doing?" she questioned testily, frowning.

Izaya's brows tensed over his narrowed eyes, and he leaned forward a bit in his chair so that he could rest his elbows on his knees and steeple his fingers before his face.

"So serious," replied Izaya softly, and it was only then that Namie realized the man was imitating her.

As soon as he saw the realization wash over his employee's face, Izaya's façade shattered, and he broke out into laughter once more.

Shaking her head with a groan of frustrating, Namie turned back to her work. She had been working for Izaya too long for his jokes to bother her. Besides…

The laughter had gradually faded into giggles and then into irregular chuckles until the room was once more silent.

When Namie was sure that Izaya was no longer watching her, she looked down at the game board that sat on the coffee table between the two sofas in the office. Not a single game piece, Shogi, chess, checkers, or otherwise decorated the shining top of the new game board Izaya had purchased after an "unfortunate accident" involving his past board and matches.

It had been two months since Namie had seen a single piece on the board. Two months since that Kida Masaomi kid had left and Ikebukuro had finally calmed down.

Namie hadn't quite decided how she was going to exploit her employer's recent state or if she even would. But she knew that this might be her only chance.

Cautiously, as though any sudden movement of her eyes might once more attract Izaya's attention, Namie shifted her gaze from the empty game board to where the man sat at his desk. Izaya was slumped back in his chair, almost sinking a bit, as he stared vacantly at his computer screen.

Maybe it was the silence of Ikebukuro, or perhaps Izaya was finally beginning to realize how old he was, or it could even be that what Izaya's "beloved humans" had been saying about him was finally getting to him, but…

Namie frowned a bit to herself and began to thumb through the files she held once more.

It didn't take a genius, or even an information broker, to figure it out.

Orihara Izaya was lonely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: for some brief mention of domestic violence.

"So I suppose it's settled then? We'll be offering the part to Aaron Ames," spoke the woman sitting at the head of the table, her fierce eyes running down the cast list they had put together in the past four hours.

All around the large table in the conference room sat official, important looking people dressed in expensive business suits, overpriced bottles of water sitting in front of them. Each one nodded in turn as the woman looked up at them for their approval.

One person, a young man – an amateur- did not nod, however. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he looked back over the cast list. This was the man's first casting job, and – like all newbies – he most likely had a skewed perspective of how much say he actually had in the committee's decision.

"I really don't think that Ames is the man for the job," he suddenly said, and thought he mumbled, everyone turned to look at him with varying looks of confusion and shock on their faces.

"What do you mean Ames isn't our man?" questioned the woman to his right derisively, "He's been in all of the big hits released in the past five years. He's more than qualified for this job!"

"Yeah, Murakawa. Ames could be the difference between this film sinking and us making millions," agreed the man sitting across the table from him.

The young man simply shook his head and pulled a manila folder from his brief case, sliding it across the table towards the woman sitting at the head.

"I think this man might be the only one able to pull off the part," explained the young man before glancing about the table, "Have any of you heard of Yuuhei Hanejima?"

"I've heard his name a few times in the industry," remarked another man, and a few of the others sitting at the table nodded their consent, "But he's not a British actor…"

"No," Murakawa confirmed excitedly, "He's an A-list Japanese actor, and he's better than anything we've ever seen in Britain."

"But does he speak English?" inquired the woman at the head of the table as she gingerly lifted the cover of the folder to look at its contents.

"Probably better than most Britons," laughed Murakawa, his cheerful demeanor concealing his anxiety as he watched his boss' gaze read Hanejima's file.

"Hmmm… he has an impressive résumé; I've heard of most of these movies," she said thoughtfully, and then her eyes widened as she got to the actor's photo at the bottom of the page.

Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, but Murakawa was certain that he saw a faint blush spread across her face.

"Anna," the woman suddenly snapped, looking up at the secretary who had been sitting in the corner throughout the entire meeting.

"Yes, ma'am?" Anna replied uneasily, the hand she had been writing notes with jerking in surprise as she straightened up in her chair.

"Scratch our plans to call Ames. I need you to call Hanejima as soon as you can. He's needed in London."

Where he sat at the other end of the table, Murakawa basked in his moment of triumph and allowed himself the tiniest of self-satisfied smiles.

-

The door behind Shizuo closed with an unusually soft click; he was too worn out from the day to carry any residual frustration. He and Tom had spent hours trying to hunt down a man with some especially steep debts only to discover that he had fled from Ikebukuro a week ago.

"Tadaima," muttered Shizuo out of habit. He hadn't lived with anyone else in years, and yet he always felt the need to announce his return at the end of the day.

A soft meow sounded from somewhere in the small kitchen that connected to the apartment's living room, and Shizuo looked over to see a mangy-looking black cat staring back at him from its spot on the kitchen counter.

"You're still here, are you?" the bodyguard asked, grinning slightly.

The cat merely stared back at him with those eerily familiar dark eyes.

Shizuo had found the thing outside of his apartment in the rain two nights ago, and he hadn't the heart to throw it out. He left a window cracked open for it before he left everyday, but it wouldn't leave. If Shizuo was lucky, maybe none of his neighbors would notice his new roommate, and he wouldn't even have to pay a pet deposit for the miserable creature.

With a heavy sigh, Shizuo walked past the cat into his kitchen, heading towards his fridge.

"It's a wonder you don't get bored here," Shizuo said to the cat as he opened his fridge and reached in to retrieve two beer bottles, "There's gotta be something more exciting for you out in the city. Aren't there pigeons to kill, girl cats to chase…?"

The cat meowed loudly as it hopped down from the countertop and wound tightly around Shizuo's legs, staring up at the man with its wide brown eyes.

"I guess you're hungry by now," said Shizuo, going back into the fridge to sift through his small stockpile of food.

"You're probably not a huge fan of rice, are you…"

As Shizuo finally found a Styrofoam box of leftover sushi, thinking out loud to the cat all the while, he realized that this was the first time he had had any semblance of "company" in his apartment in months. If a cat could count as company.

He popped the box open and set it down on the kitchen tile, and the little cat leaned down to sniff the old sushi gingerly, unimpressed.

"I promise it's fine," Shizuo said quickly.

The cat looked at him with disbelief for a moment before it lowered its head to pick at the bits of fish it deemed edible. Smiling gently, Shizuo made his way into the adjoining living room and grabbed the nearby TV remote as he settled down on his sofa. With one hand, he flipped the TV to the news while he popped the cap off of one of his beers with the other.

"…wo more found dead this morning. Though the police have been able to attribute the recent murders to a new gang, little else is known."

Lurching forwards, Shizuo reached for the remote and turned up the volume. Were these the same murders he had been hearing about for the past few weeks?

"Yuujin Akiko – a young Riara Academy student – was found dead early this morning right beside this new graffiti-"

Shizuo shut off the TV with a scowl. Yep, the same murders he had been hearing about for the past few weeks. It really shouldn't have surprised him; Ikebukuro had been calm for so long that it was only a matter of time before something bad happened.

Most of the old gangs had gone completely silent, giving this new gang the perfect opportunity to recruit and take to the streets to wreak havoc.

What was it they called themselves? The Goodbye Johnnies? Shizuo snorted with disdain and took a long swig from his beer before leaning over the back of his sofa.

Though it was likely that that goddamn flea was behind this new streak of 'Bukuro violence – the sick fuck had probably finally gotten bored – Shizuo didn't really believe it. One little gang going around killing high schoolers? It wasn't confusing enough to be one of Izaya's so-called games.

Shizuo reached up to massage one of his temples, fighting off what was probably a developing migraine. It was too late, and he was way too tired to bother thinking about that flea right now.

Without the TV on, the apartment was dead silent. Closing his eyes, Shizuo sighed and let himself enjoy the calm. After a long day running around the city, chasing after the indebted of Ikebukuro, and dealing with the everyday conflict that arose in such a lively city, the silence was welcome, relaxing, beautiful. It was- It was…

Goddamn lonely.

A loud meow sounded from the sofa cushion near one of the bodyguard's knees, echoing throughout the empty apartment as if it knew exactly what Shizuo was thinking.

Cracking a single gray eye open, Shizuo scowled down at the cat for a moment before lifting a hand to stroke its head gently.

"You're right. I'm sorry," he chuckled, "I've got you now."

Perhaps Shizuo was losing it, talking to a cat and treating it like a roommate, so he felt the need to tell it:

"And there's always Kasuka. As long as I've got Kasuka, I can't be lonely."

The cat stared at him with its peculiar brown eyes for a long moment before it meowed once more.

Shizuo smiled gently and rubbed the cat's ears, content for now to simply sit and relax after his day. Not ten seconds after his eyes started to close drowsily, the irritating vibration of Shizuo's phone against his thigh roused him. Shizuo reached into his pocket with a scowl. Typical, just as he was about to fall asleep someone just had to bother him.

All of Shizuo's irritation vanished like a puff of smoke as soon as he saw the name flashing on the screen.

"Oh!" he breathed cheerfully at the cat, "It's Kasuka!"

Getting to his feet, Shizuo flipped the phone open quickly and held it to his ear.

"Kasuka, I was just- Oh… No, I'm not busy right now," said Shizuo as he walked from his living room, "What's up…?"

-

_"Shush, darling. Do you want daddy to hear you?"_

_At the gentle reprimand of his mother, Izaya bit his lower lip to stifle his little cries. Her hands stroked his back in slow, small circles as she tried to soothe him, and Izaya curled up tightly in her lap._

_"Why don't we leave, mama? Run away somewhere so he can't find us," Izaya whispered weakly into the fabric of her shirt._

_The hands on Izaya's back tensed, and the little boy squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he had upset his mother with his question._

_Gradually, though, his mother's hands relaxed once more and resumed their slow pace up and down his back._

_"We could never do that, sweetie," the woman whispered into her son's ear, "I love your father, and he loves us."_

_"Then why does he hit you?" persisted Izaya angrily, careful to keep his frustrated questions soft lest his father hear him, "Why does he hurt us?"_

_Izaya's face was buried in his mother's shirt, but he could tell that she was smiling by the way her voice sounded._

_"That's just how he shows his love for us, baby."_

_"How come you're hiding, then, if you love him?" Izaya murmured, eyes falling to half-mast. He knew this line of questioning was pointless. If his mother had wanted to leave, wanted to save herself, wanted to save him, she would have done so a long time ago._

_"It's part of the game we play," his mother chuckled._

_Before Izaya could ask any more questions, and he certainly wanted to, his father's voice boomed down the hallway, practically shaking the door of the room they hid in off of its hinges in his fury._

_"Yumeko! Izaya! I know you're in there!" the man yelled angrily._

_Swallowing down another scared sob, Izaya clung to his mother even more tightly. His little heart pounded frantically against his ribcage as the footsteps outside of the door grew louder and louder, closer… closer…_

_Two long shadows were cast across Izaya and his mother as his father came to stand right outside of the door._

_So this was love, huh?_

_"Yumeko, let me give my son his birthday present!"_

_The door thudded louder than thunder as the man outside kicked the door once, twice, thrice-_

The sound of the door cracking seemed to reverberate in Izaya's very chest, and his heart fluttered feebly. Those footsteps moved quickly towards where Izaya and his mother were crouched once, twice, thrice-

Izaya bolted upright in his bed, one of his hands coming up to clutch his chest. A cold sheen of sweat covered his body, and his breath was coming in uneven pants.

He struggled to calm himself down for a few moments before his signature smirk suddenly twisted the corners of his lips and he began laughing. His laughter was soft at first, but as he went back over the details of his dream, it blossomed into a loud cackle.

He had no idea how he could have forgotten that charming birthday memory.

"You two must have loved each other a lot. You were the perfect couple," he giggled acerbically as he slid off of his bed, bare feet landing on the wood floor of his room softly.

There was no going back to sleep after a vivid dream like that.

As Izaya walked across his apartment and into his kitchen, he caught sight of the microwave clock and scowled. It was only two in the morning. He had hours to kill until he actually had to "wake up".

His luck this evening just kept getting better and better.

Tiredly, Izaya busied himself around his kitchen with making tea, and only grew more frustrated when he discovered his electric kettle was broken. Of fucking course.

While he waited for his water to boil, the thrum of the microwave almost deafening in the quiet apartment, Izaya tried to keep his mind off of his dream. It's not like he was surprised about it; his birthday was just over a week away. He was sure that even his beloved humans reminisced about past birthday celebrations each year.

_Beloved_ humans.

Izaya grinned at the thought. It was thanks to his parents that he knew how to love as well as he did. Without their guidance, he might have never been able to love humanity as much as he did.

His grin fell a little, and Izaya's eyes darkened. The microwave had begun to beep, but he ignored its shrill complaints.

Personally, he would never want anyone to love him. He had already suffered quite a bit in the name of "love". There was no need to subject himself to that again. Love was for people like Masaomi, Saki, Namie…

Izaya jolted, startled, when his hand missed the tin of tea he had been reaching for and knocked it over instead. The lid popped off, and tea leaves scattered all across the formerly pristine counter.

People like Masaomi, Saki, and Namie who would do anything for the one they supposedly loved.

Tutting to himself, Izaya began sweeping the loose tea leaves off the counter and into one of his hands. It was too late for this sort of deep self-discovery thinking. If he pursued this line of thought for any longer, he just might begin to believe something utterly absurd. Something as absurd as the idea that perhaps he had been wrong.

Izaya finally rescued his mug of hot water from the microwave, shutting off his mind just long enough to allow himself to prepare his tea. For a long moment, he contented himself with simply watching the way the steam rose from the water to curl lazily in the air before disappearing.

He couldn't have been wrong for twenty-three years. That was fucking crazy.

Love was invading every aspect of another person's life, finding out enough about them that it took only the littlest bit of information, the tiniest misdirection, to set their entire life off balance. That was devotion. That was love.

And then hatred… Well, hatred was the absence of this devotion, or maybe it was even when something was simply an annoyance to you, something you were incapable of loving.

But then why was Izaya the only one who knew this?

Chuckling, Izaya jabbed at his mug of tea with his forefinger accusingly.

"I'm not wrong, little tea," he insisted, "Maybe I'm the only sane one in the world!"

However, it wasn't as if it would hurt to make sure, would it?

"I'll just have to pay my favorite city a visit to get a look at this so-called "love" everyone else seems to believe in, little tea," said Izaya, giggling cheerfully as he picked up his new confidant and made his way back to his room.

He would leave for Ikebukuro tomorrow, appointments be damned. It's not like selling information to yakuza and the rest of the Tokyo underworld gave Izaya the thrill it used to anyway. In fact, he was feeling much more cheerful about his plans for the next day than he had in, well... two months.

He might be able to go back to sleep after all. The effects of his unpleasant dream had been almost entirely washed away by the happy thought of spending some time in Ikebukuro – his favorite playground.

"You'll see soon, you skeptical little tea!" he assured the mug in his hand as he twirled around cheerfully, "I can't be wrong about this!"


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay_ , so maybe no one had insulted their supposed loved one with any biting comments before laughing maniacally yet, but that didn't mean he was wrong, Izaya thought with a scowl as he watched another couple walk by behind the sunglasses that made up part of his brilliant disguise.

He had been sitting outside of this café underneath an ostentatious umbrella for the better part of an hour, content to simply watch his beloved humans interact free from his tinkering. Fortunately for Izaya, and most likely due to his genius disguise (consisting of a pair of sunglasses, a simple yellow t-shirt, and jeans just like any other normal young human), the man had been able to observe without anyone noticing his awe-inspiring presence. He certainly wouldn't have been happy if his humans went out of their way to act differently under the scrutiny of his powerful gaze.

Yet another giggling couple – couple number forty-four, to be exact – walked by Izaya, linked arm-in-arm and acting giddy just from being around each other, and Izaya caught himself frowning with displeasure.

Obviously something was wrong. Every couple had its inescapable issues – that was something Izaya knew very well – so for so many couples to act just short of freakishly affectionate was bizarre. And suspicious, he noted. Perhaps they had seen through the disguise he had thought was so foolproof.

Sighing to himself, Izaya took another sip from the mug of coffee sitting before him as he cast his glance as discreetly as possible around the patio of the café. A little glumly, the informant noted that he was the only one sitting alone. Those who weren't with their significant other had come to the café to chat with their friends, and most of them were smiling and laughing as they conversed with one another.

It's not like Izaya was feeling lonely – no, that would be utterly ridiculous – but the informant couldn't help but wonder why no one had approached him. Didn't humans do that sometime; randomly introduce themselves to strangers who looked like they might or might not be lonely or feeling left out?

Grinning a bit and feeling a little more cheerful, Izaya realized that it must just be because his humans were too afraid to approach him. Without his signature fur-lined coat, he was sure that they couldn't recognize him for certain, but a few of them probably felt that he was familiar and sensed that he was someone not to be trifled with. That, or they were simply feeling too self-conscience to approach the one person who pulled all of their strings, whether they knew it or not.

That was definitely it.

With a pleased hum, Izaya pulled the little coffee stirrer from his mug and slowly ran his tongue along its plastic surface, licking off the traces of whipped cream as his thoughts began to wander.

So far, he hadn't seen anything to disprove his sneaking suspicion that perhaps his entire life view when it came to love was skewed to say the least. But just because the informant didn't have any proof to support his view yet didn't mean that it was wrong. Perhaps he was just hanging around the wrong part of Ikebukuro?

Izaya had only just begun to consider which other areas of his favorite city he should visit when an almost feral cry derailed his train of thought.

"IIIZAAAYAAAA-KUUUN! You _bastard!_ "

The unlucky coffee-drinkers sitting closest to Izaya suddenly looked at him as they only just now noticed to whom it was they were sitting so close. Leaving their beverages behind, the customers of the small café got up as quickly as they could and sprinted away from the danger zone.

With a gleeful smirk, Izaya rolled to the ground just as a bench came soaring over his head from the nearest, now-benchless bus stop.

"Aw, Shizu-chan! I'm so proud that you were able to see through my clever disguise~!" Izaya cooed as he hopped to his feet and clasped his hands under his chin, "Perhaps you're even smarter than I thought you were!"

"Shut the fuck up, you stupid flea!" snarled Shizuo as he ran closer to the informant, grabbing an unfortunate café table on his way.

"I don't know how you did it!"

The words barely had time to register in Izaya's mind before the table clipped his shoulder as it soared past, and he staggered back a couple of steps, grimacing and rotating his arm.

The huge moron had nearly dislocated Izaya's arm, but at least the informant had been able to move before it hit his skull; Shizuo was _really_ angry today, and Izaya hadn't even done anything. _Yet_ , he thought with a smirk.

"Did what, Shizu-chan?" asked the slighter man as he ducked a moment before an umbrella decapitated him, "I was born this gorgeous~!" he giggled.

"You know what you did!" roared Shizuo as he swung the umbrella he held tightly in his grip once more, the metal bending under his hands as easily as if it were clay.

Izaya danced away from Shizuo with a grating laugh, scowling as soon as he turned his back to run for it. He could understand Shizuo attacking him for the crimes he had framed the other man for or out of simple hatred, but this time Izaya really had no idea what the fuck he had done. And he had been having such a nice day, too.

Why did that blond idiot have to be so unpredictable?

"If Shizu-chan wants to kill me, he'll have to catch me first!" called Izaya over his shoulder as he skipped – very quickly – down the road and away from the bodyguard.

He didn't get very far.

Izaya's face introduced itself to the pavement before the informant could dodge the umbrella that Shizuo had flung at him. The metal bar of the large umbrella had cracked mercilessly across his back, causing the informant to go temporarily numb before a slow, pulsing pain erupted all over his body.

"Don't try to run from me, you worthless piece of shit," Shizuo growled quietly, the softness of his voice much more threatening than any of his shouting.

"Whoah, Shizu-chan," chuckled Izaya as he forced himself onto his feet once more, a wince flashing across his face for a fraction of second before his controlled, cocky mask once more slipped into place, "What's got you all wound up today?"

Though Izaya's voice was as unconcerned and amused as ever, the smaller man's hand grasped tightly around the flickblade in the pocket of his jacket.

"Don't fuck with me, Izaya," warned the blond, nearing Izaya slowly now as a wolf might do with its prey.

Shizuo moved to pull the nearest stop sign from its fixed spot on the road, and Izaya saw his chance. On any normal day, Izaya would have gladly played with Shizuo all around the obstacle course that was Ikebukuro, but today was not any normal day; Izaya had things to do, and he didn't need to waste any of his precious time on Shizuo today.

The instant Shizuo's eyes shifted from the informant to the stop sign he had chosen as his next weapon, Izaya turned quickly, about to sprint into the nearest alleyway and disappear.

A strong hand grabbed the back of Izaya's neck, pulling him off of the pavement so that his feet dangled a foot or two off the ground. Shizuo shifted his hand slightly so that Izaya faced him, and so that he had a better grip on the smaller man's windpipe.

"Sh-Shizu-chan," gasped Izaya, bringing one of his hands up to Shizuo's wrist as little spots began to dance across his vision.

"I can understand you coming after me, but messing around with…" Shizuo trailed off, his body trembling with rage and his gray eyes darkening, "But now I've finally got you, you goddamn flea."

_Shit_.

Shizuo tightened his grip around Izaya's throat, and the informant wheezed feebly as the strongest man in Ikebukuro began to squeeze the life from him; Shizuo was actually going to kill him this time.

Sunlight glittered off of metal as Izaya suddenly whipped his flickblade out of his pocket and plunged the small blade into Shizuo's forearm. He gasped as he was suddenly dropped to the pavement on his ass, but he was on his feet in a second.

"IZAYAAA!" Shizuo yelled angrily, actually reaching for the stop sign this time and pulling it up from where it was bolted to the concrete. The bodyguard's forearm bled profusely from his movement, but the man didn't even seem to notice.

Izaya ducked as Shizuo swung the sign at him, its sharp edge barely missing his head, and ran at the bodyguard quickly, keeping low in order to avoid the sign as it came for him again. Shizuo wasn't able to let go of it quickly enough before Izaya suddenly rammed his elbow into Shizuo's ribcage.

Winded, Shizuo staggered back, clutching at his chest with his injured arm. His foot hadn't even hit the ground again when Izaya kicked his feet out from under him and Shizuo's back hit the road with a painful thud.

Shizuo was frozen where he lay. Ordinarily, he'd have no problem recovering from such a blow, but…

Izaya loomed over him, straddling Shizuo's waist as he held his flickblade to the bodyguard's throat. Despite Izaya's threatening stance, his brown eyes were wide with something akin to fear.

But as soon as Shizuo thought he had seen it, the strange emotion vanished from the informant's gaze to be replaced by mirth, leaving Shizuo to wonder if he had really seen anything at all.

"I was hoping that the day I killed Shizu-chan would be more memorable, but I suppose this will have to do," pouted Izaya dramatically as he pressed his blade into Shizuo's skin and drew a small trickle of blood.

Shizuo made the tiniest noise of anger in the back of his throat before he relaxed and surrendered himself to simply lay there, his brows drawn down in irritation. He couldn't try to move Izaya off without being stabbed in the neck, but if he stayed where he was, he'd be stabbed anyway.

Several little drops of blood ran down from the small cut Izaya had made in Shizuo's neck and onto the pavement, and Izaya watched them carefully, he found himself hesitating.

Not even two minutes ago, Izaya had been terrified that Shizuo was about to actually kill him even though, after all of these years, the informant had always known this would only end when one of them died. He had accepted that, hadn't he?

Or maybe somehow, along the way, Izaya had forgotten that one of them would have to die. Maybe he had allowed himself to believe that the two of them could forever run around Ikebukuro after one another in an endless, violent game of tag.

Well, even if he had forgotten, he remembered now. If one of them had to die, of course it had to be Shizuo; Izaya would never let himself be killed, especially by such a wild brute.

But _could_ he kill Shizuo? For the first time in two months, Izaya felt alive. His heart was beating ferociously behind his chest, and sweat was rolling down his face, and – most of all – he _felt_ something. Humans interested him again, for however briefly, even if it was just this one particular human.

During the informant's internal struggle, Shizuo watched Izaya warily, waiting for the man to do something other than stare at him with the freakishly seriously look he was wearing on his face.

"Stupid flea…" muttered Shizuo, "If you're going to kill me, could you just do it already?"

Izaya's eyes widened as Shizuo's low voice pulled him from his thoughts, and his signature smirk crept slowly onto his lips once more.

"Actually, Shizu-chan, I think I've changed my mind," began Izaya thoughtfully, straightening his back so that he was no longer hunched over the bodyguard, "Don't you think it would be a waste for me to end this whole thing" – he continued with a flourish of his arms – "so anticlimactically? I haven't played with Shizu-chan nearly enough…"

A single, ring-adorned index finger poked Shizuo in the face with more force than necessary.

"And I haven't seen this handsome face twisted with despair after I've disassembled your life from the inside out, Shizu-chan," Izaya breathed darkly before laughing wildly from where he sat above the bodyguard.

"So it looks like you get to live another pitiful day in the life of Heiwajima Shizuo all thanks to my generous self~!" said Izaya cheerfully as he jumped away from Shizuo and skipped out of the other man's reach.

"Izaya-kuuuun-" Shizuo began angrily,

"Ja ne, Shizu-chan~!" called Izaya over his shoulder, waggling his fingers at the bodyguard in what must have been a wave before disappearing among the afternoon crowds of Ikebukuro.

Had he still been angry, Shizuo would have given chase to the stupid, little flea until he caught him again and could repay him for the lovely gash on his arm that was just now beginning to sting.

But Shizuo's anger had already dissipated.

Izaya's eyes had had that look in them again some time during the short period of time he had spent thinking above Shizuo. The informant had been afraid for the second time that day.

Shizuo could practically hear the sound of something clicking in his mind, and he scowled, rubbing the back of his neck as he began the walk towards Shinra's apartment. The flea couldn't have been afraid of killing Shizuo, could he?

The bodyguard grinned wryly at the thought and pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, content to crush the tobacco between his teeth.

No, that was crazy. It must have been a trick of the light, perhaps a shadow cast across Izaya's face that had made him look so fearful.

Though Shizuo spent the entire way to Shinra's apartment trying to convince himself that he hadn't actually seen what he thought he saw, he was still scowling with confusion by the time he knocked on the door to his friend's apartment.

If it was so crazy, why couldn't he believe any other possible explanation?

-

Izaya wasn't one for tantrums, but he couldn't help but kick the door to his apartment open when he got home. The tall wooden door shivered in pain as it collided harshly with the wall behind it and Izaya stalked in past it.

His apartment was already cast in the pale orange glow of sunset. Almost an entire day had passed, and Izaya had learned nothing except-

"Fuck!" he shouted angrily, kicking the door again to close it with much more force than necessary, "Fucking _dammit!_ "

"Well…"

At the sound of the feminine voice coming from the kitchen, Izaya froze. How could he have forgotten that Namie was still here?

"I suppose I should start looking for another job since whatever asylum you escaped from seems to have finally found you," spoke Namie flatly.

The woman had moved from the kitchen to look her employer up and down, her arms crossed before her chest as she tried to figure out what Izaya's problem was now.

"Ne? You know I've been able to avoid them for years, Namie," Izaya chuckled, doing his best to make up for letting his emotions slip around the woman, "No reason they should catch me now~"

Namie scowled simply because she couldn't tell whether or not the man was kidding; she was thoroughly convinced that Izaya had escaped from a mental institution. And if he somehow hadn't, he certainly belonged in one.

"But just in case you'd like to avoid any possible conflict that may or may not occur later this evening, you're certainly welcome to go home for the day," continued Izaya, smirking all the while.

Alright, now Namie knew he was joking about the whole thing. Not as if that meant she wouldn't take him up on his unexpected offer, however.

"I suppose that would be best. I don't want them thinking I'm crazy, too, for working for you," Namie said with a nod as she began to quickly shove her belongings into her purse; she didn't want Izaya retracting that statement of his before she could leave.

Even though she expected him to, Izaya said nothing, merely watching Namie as she finish packing up in silence. The man was still smirking as he followed Namie to the door and closed it a bit too loudly behind her.

She stood in the outer hallway for a moment, hands tight around the strap of her purse as she waited.

"SHIT!" cursed the furious voice of her employer from behind the door.

With a pleased little smile, Namie nearly skipped the rest of the way down the hallway. Nearly. She wasn't some psycho like Izaya.

-

As soon as Namie was gone and his apartment door was locked, Izaya allowed himself to slump back tiredly into his swivel chair. He ran a hand through his dark hair with a groan, his eyes slipping shut.

Not only had he been stupid enough to forget Namie was working today – thus leading to the woman to see him genuinely angry – but he hadn't even accomplished what he had set out to do in Ikebukuro. His inability to research the phenomena known as "true love" wasn't entirely his fault. After all, he would probably still be in Ikebukuro right now if it hadn't been for that idiot Shizu-chan…

_Shizu-chan._

"Dammit…" Izaya breathed, all of his energy rushing out of his body in that single breath as he opened his eyes and leaned against his desk, staring off vacantly at his empty apartment.

Izaya wanted to believe that what he had said to Shizu-chan earlier had been the truth. After so many years of violent, strategic (well, on Izaya's part) cat-and-mouse, it would have been a shame to end it all with such a lack of ceremony today. Izaya didn't want to kill Shizu-chan unless he had planned out every moment down to the great oaf's last breath.

Yes. His decision today had absolutely nothing to do with the fear that had coursed through his body when he held his knife against Shizu-chan's throat, so sure that he would add the little bit of pressure needed to slice through the larger man's carotid artery. It had nothing to do with the way Izaya's fingers had begun to tremble as he realized what he was about to do, and it certainly had nothing to do with the wild thoughts that had raced unchecked through his mind.

But perhaps some of those thoughts had been right. Izaya had been feeling listless and lonely – yes, he would admit it at least to himself – for the past two months, but when he had seen Shizu-chan today, he had completely forgotten that cold loneliness. All there had been was Shizu-chan and he free to race after one another through the streets and alleys of Ikebukuro.

Izaya smirked to himself, allowing the smallest of chuckles as he rest his head against the cool top of his desk. Leave it to Orihara Izaya to feel most alive when violence itself came chasing after him.

Despite the number of people who knew _of_ Orihara Izaya, no one actually _knew_ him. Izaya couldn't get close to other people; he never saw them as anything more than his beloved pawns. Shizu-chan, though…

Shizu-chan was no pawn. Perhaps the only human – if that's really what Shizu-chan was – alive whose every move Izaya could not predict was Shizu-chan. Izaya saw him as something to be played with, not something to be manipulated to his heart's content.

That was likely the reason behind why the only person Izaya had ever felt any sort of connection with was Shizu-chan; Izaya couldn't manipulate him, and Shizu-chan shared the same thought as Izaya when they saw each other.

_Kill, kill, kill!_

The only time they knew what the other was thinking was when they were chasing each other for Ikebukuro, out for the other's blood. Izaya would be lying if he said that it didn't thrill him.

And that, ultimately, was why Izaya hadn't killed Shizu-chan today. He was addicted to chasing down a man he couldn't understand, he was addicted to the rapt attention Shizu-chan game him while they fought, and he was addicted to the routine they so easily fell into when they saw each other.

Without that, Izaya really would be lonely.

The informant burst out into unrestrained laughter, his massive, void apartment filling with the sound of his bitter amusement.

How surprising! How amusing!

Years and years spent content to be alone, and now that Izaya finally felt the emptiness of his lonely life, the only person had really shared any sort of emotional bond with was Heiwajima Shizuo.

"I suppose even I can surprise myself sometimes!" Izaya tittered gleefully, leaning back in his chair and swiveling around a few times, his eyes barely catching sight of the lights that were just coming on in the skyline of Shinjuku as the nightlife awakened.

Jumping out of his chair and bounding across the room, Izaya twirled in a small circle and danced over to his coffee table where his untouched game board waited.

"The world is just too much fun; humans never fail to entertain me! Even myself," giggled the informant, "I love, love, love humans!"

"Or…" he murmured darkly, an amused smirk curling the corners of his lips as he shuffled around in the drawer under the table for his game pieces, "Taking my recent revelation into account should I say I hate humans?"

With another fit of hardly-sane laughter, Izaya began to place his pieces on the board with care.

"And my stupid, little Shizu-chan. The personification of violence who so absurdly claims to be a pacifist…" spoke Izaya softly as he rest his finger on the last piece he had placed, a white king from his chess set.

"Shall I claim to love you now?"

The small informant sat back against the seat of his sofa as he examined his new set-up, chin resting on his hand, with a pleased look on his face, his brown eyes glittering with excitement.

"Well, I'm not going to go down alone, Shizu-chan! You can't get the best of me!" declared Izaya as he laughed once more at some inside joke and leapt to his feet.

All around the white king sitting at one end of the board was an assortment of various shogi and checkers pieces. And, completely alone – how appropriate, Izaya thought with a grin – sat the kingpin of the whole set-up, the black king.

After two months of utter boredom and disinterest, Izaya could once more think those satisfying words he hadn't even thought to miss.

_Let the game begin, Shizu-chan._


	4. Chapter 4

_Hunger, cold and empty, clawed at Izaya's stomach. The teenage boy weakly raised his head as he heard the sound of soft footsteps stop outside of his door; the door he was slumped against._

_"Mom?" he called softly._

_For a long moment, there was no reply, and Izaya figured that his mother must have walked off, but a squeaky floorboard close to his door gave her away._

_"Sweetie, how are you?" asked his mother in response, her voice timid._

What a foolish question.

_Izaya caught himself scowling. How was he? He had been stupidly concerned about his mother, so he had finally come home for once instead of going to an acquaintance's house after school. All his concern had earned him three days locked up in his room, which his father had apparently turned into something of a jail cell during Izaya's absence._

_And all the woman bothered to say to him after threedays of neglect was 'How are you'?_

_"Hungry, I guess," he muttered._

_He could almost hear his mother biting her lip in regret._

_"You know I'd get you something if I could, darling, but-"_

_"Dad," Izaya finished for her dryly, allowing his eyes to slip closed as he pressed the side of his face against the cool surface of the door._

_"Izaya, sweetheart, we're doing it for your own good. We can't have you running around the city all day and night. It's too dangerous…"_

Dangerous? Izaya was one of the most dangerous things that had ever happened to Ikebukuro; he had nothing to fear in his city.

_"We have to do this," she continued, "We love you, Izaya."_

Haha, of course. That "love" again. The one that had been responsible for so much of Izaya's past misery. But it was all done in the name of love, wasn't it?

_Izaya sighed in defeat and pressed his lips together into a thin little line, waiting in absolute silence until-_

_"Izaya?" his mom pursued timidly._

_She waited a few seconds before sighing in disappointment and walking off. It would have been so easy for her to let Izaya out, so easy to simply unlock his door and let him run away._

_But her "love" for him would never let her do that; she knew that if he got away this time, he wouldn't be coming back. Izaya chuckled dryly and opened his eyes to stare at the clock at his bedside._

_14:00. Had he not made the mistake of returning home, Izaya would be getting out of school soon – if he hadn't already decided to leave early, that is. He would have gotten to see the boys he considered his friends today. Shinra, Kadota… Even that monster Shizuo._

_Shizu-chan… Why did his heart lurch when he thought of the blond? It was probably the food deprivation that was making Izaya's thoughts stranger and stranger._

_He couldn't actually want to see Shizuo!_

_Groaning as yet another grumble came from his stomach, Izaya lay down on the floor, staring at his barred window listlessly. Someone had to have noticed he had gone missing, right? They'd come looking for him. And, as if on cue, a furious cry sounded just behind Izaya's window._

_"That fucking louse thinks he can hide from me? I'll kill him!"_

_Another voice, harder to hear, said something worriedly, and Izaya could barely hear Shizuo's frustrated snort._

_"Okay, okay, Shinra. But if he's not actually sick, I'll break every bone in his worthless body."_

_Izaya could barely make out the shadow of someone coming closer to his window and reaching up to grip the bars over it tightly. The pained squeal of metal being torn and pulled apart was deafening compared to the previous silence, and Izaya's heart began to beat frantically as – overhead in his parents' room – he heard his father's angry voice._

_Sunlight flooded the room and Shizuo's angry face suddenly came into view as the window was pulled open. Behind him stood Dotachin and Shinra, the doctor-to-be's eyes wide as he saw Izaya._

_"Flea…?" Shizuo began uncertainly._

_Izaya only had a moment to register the concern on the brute's face before Shinra laughed anxiously and clambered through the window._

_"See, Shizuo? He's just sick!" said Shinra as he crouched on the floor beside Izaya, giving the other boy a quick once over with his eyes._

_Izaya caught his glance for a moment and grinned his appreciation weakly; Shinra, and only Shinra, knew about Izaya's parents, and Izaya wanted to keep it that way._

_"Then what's he doing out of bed?" Kadota asked._

_"We'll worry about that later," Shinra replied quickly, no doubt able to hear Izaya's parents running down the stairs from where he was, "We should get him to my place."_

_One of Shinra's hands grasped the back of Izaya's jacket as he hoisted the other boy to his feet, wrapping Izaya's arm over his shoulder and hurriedly dragging the slighter boy over to the window._

_Before Shinra could even begin helping Izaya over the ledge of the window, Shizuo suddenly reached towards him, holding his arms out expectantly, a deep scowl on his face._

_"Shizuo, what-"_

_"Give him here, Shinra," muttered Shizuo, "It'll take forever for you to get to your house carrying that flea like that."_

_Shinra, Kadota, and Izaya all exchanged a look of surprise. Was this their Heiwajima Shizuo?_

_"I don't think that's the best idea…" Shinra said, and Kadota looked like he was preparing to stop a fight if he needed to._

_"I'm not going to kill a guy that can't even walk," growled Shizuo, losing his patience and pulling a frightened Izaya from Shinra's grip._

_Izaya tried to squirm his way from the brute's arms, convinced that these might be his last seconds on earth, but Shizuo held him tightly and began walking – much to Shinra's relief – quickly down the small street._

_"Stop wriggling, you goddamn flea," huffed Shizuo, "I've got more important things to be doing right now, so the faster I get you to Shinra's, the better."_

_"Whatever. Just don't drop me," Izaya spat back, but his voice lacked its usual malice._

_How could he be cruel when Shizuo was looking at him with such worried eyes? The idiot probably thought he was hiding his concern rather well, Izaya thought with a snort. And even as Izaya began to wonder at this strange, new emotion of Shizuo's, warmth began to creep through his veins._

_Was it disgust?_

No, it had been…

_Shinra, lagging behind the other three, glanced over his shoulder and just caught sight of Izaya's father bursting into the boy's room, his face contorted with rage as he saw the open window, before hurrying after his friends._

The soft pulse of light behind Izaya's eyelids broke the haze of sleep, and the informant sat up groggily, rubbing at his eyes.

It hadn't been disgust. It had been affection, hadn't it? Even then, Izaya had felt something for Shizuo.

"Ugh, I'm too tired for this," he muttered, opening his eyes and staring at the screen he had fallen asleep in front of.

What the hell had even brought up that memory anyway? Izaya had completely forgotten the incident, letting it fade into the recesses of his mind with the rest of his wonderful family memories.

Grumbling to himself, he turned his focus back on his screen. He had fallen asleep while reading an incredibly long list of names of residents in Ikebukuro. More specifically, residents who were in debt and would be receiving a visit from Tanaka Tom and his faithful bodyguard.

Ah. So that's what had caused Izaya to remember that particular incident, he realized, warmth rising in his cheeks. He had been plotting a way to make Shizuo's life a little easier and had decided to start with the man's job. Even if he didn't act like one, Shizuo was a pacifist. Izaya could only imagine the frustration and self-loathing the other man endured due to his inability to control his violence.

Namie had retrieved the list of Tom's "clientele" earlier that day, and Izaya had spent the last few hours finding the locations for each and when Tom planned on paying them a visit.

The only problem now was that Izaya had all of this information, but he wasn't quite sure how he wanted to go about his plan. He could visit these people himself before Tom and Shizuo got to them, but that was too risky. Someone would certainly mention him, and then Shizuo would think Izaya was up to something. Which he was. But it wasn't anything bad this time.

Izaya giggled to himself and tapped his nails against the top of his desk in thought.

"Looks like I have my end but no means whatsoever…" he chuckled softly, "But, I suppose it will have to wait until tomorrow. I have to get my beauty sleep if this plan is going to work~!"

The informant leaned forward to turn off his monitor, his office brightly lit one moment and then cast in total darkness the next. Izaya's silly grin was the last thing to fade as he yawned tiredly and made his way to his room.

This new game was too exciting!

-

"…aya! IZAYA!"

Looking up from his work slowly, Izaya let an innocent smile work its way onto his lips.

"Yes, Namie?" he asked, fixing his assistant with the least conniving look he could muster.

For a fraction of a second, he saw one of Namie's eyebrows twitch in frustration and a little vein by her temple throb. The woman had every right to be irritated. She had, after all, been trying to get Izaya's attention for the better part of a minute. Meanwhile, Izaya had been doing his best to ignore her; he had more important things to focus on, after all.

"Oh, I'm so honored!" she muttered, "The great Orihara Izaya has finally given me his attention."

Turning back to the papers on his desk, Izaya's smile widened.

"If all you wanted to do was tell me how wonderful I am, Namie, it could have waited. After all, I-"

"Are you responsible for this?" the woman suddenly blurted as she shoved a newspaper in her employer's face.

Izaya craned his neck back a little so that the words weren't right up against his nose, and – as he began to read the article presented to him – his heart began to beat faster with excitement.

Some new gang called the Farewell Rogers had apparently been tormenting Ikebukuro for the past four weeks, hunting down any and all who questioned their reputation.

The information broker might have just found the means to his end.

Seeing the time it took Izaya to peruse the article, Namie knew she had probably been wrong in her assumption, that, or Izaya was a wonderful actor, which she knew he was.

"So this is the best Ikebukuro could come up with in two months?" Izaya said with a little disappointment, pouting childishly, "I guess it'll just have to do…"

That smirk of his tugged at the corner of his lips as his eyes glittered with joy.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Namie~! This is just what I was looking for!" he giggled, bringing the article with him as he twirled in his chair and holding the thin paper up to the window so that the sunlight could glimmer through it.

"Beautiful!" he remarked, much too happy for Namie's liking.

"Just what you were looking for for what, exactly?" she questioned.

"Don't you worry about it," Izaya replied dismissively as he waved a hand over his shoulder at Namie, "It doesn't involve you, or even really the rest of Ikebukuro. This time it's just Shizu-chan and I."

"Heiwajima…?" said Namie, unable to hide her surprise. Her employer had never devoted much thought to Ikebukuro's strongest, and he certainly had never developed a plan solely for the other man.

Despite Izaya's reassurances – which really weren't worth that much anyway – Namie found herself feeling much more concerned than she had earlier when she had read the disturbing front page article.

Shaking her head, Namie decided she wouldn't bother Izaya about it until it became her problem.

"Never mind, I really don't want to know," she decided, "Just keep me out of it."

Izaya twirled in his chair once more so he could face Namie, setting the article down gently before him.

"Oh, I will, Namie. I can't risk you ruining everything after all," Izaya said as he grabbed his fur-trimmed jacket from where it had hung on the back of his chair.

"Where are you going?" snapped Namie irritably.

Izaya paused where he stood in front of the door and turned to grin impishly at his assistant.

"I have work to do, Namie," Izaya replied, "I don't have much else for you to do today, so if you'd clean the apartment and make dinner for when I get back later, that would be wonderful~"

Before Namie could protest or even throw a scathing retort at her boss, the door had shut behind Izaya, leaving Namie alone in the large apartment with a list of chores.

"That _asshole_ ," she growled angrily, her fists clenching at her sides.

And even from where she stood, she could hear him cackling all the way down the hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

The sun was shining high over Ikebukuro, and a cheerful din of chatter and laughter had settled over the streets as the city's residents enjoyed the unseasonably cool day. Despite the blissful atmosphere that seemed to permeate every corner of the large city, one person was entirely unaffected.

Namely, one Heiwajima Shizuo.

As he followed behind Tom, Shizuo couldn't help the dark cloud that hung over him. His little brother was leaving the country soon for what would seem like forever, and there wasn't anything Shizuo could do about it. Hell, there wasn't even anyone he could blame like he had initially – and wrongly – assumed. Shizuo had been so sure that that goddamn flea was responsible; he thought Izaya was simply delving into some new and exciting way to ruin Shizuo's life, but now…

He hadn't been able to get the image of Izaya's face tense with confusion and fear out of his mind. It had been four days since Shizuo's "chat" with Izaya, and he hadn't seen the worthless louse since. Perhaps he had scared Izaya out of Ikebukuro for good?

Shizuo scowled as he felt his heart sink at the thought. He only felt bad because he had hurt the louse for something he hadn't even done; at least, that's what he kept telling himself. Either way, he needed to talk to Izaya and clear up any misunderstanding about their last encounter. Extending any show of human decency towards another might not be something Izaya would ever do for Shizuo (actually, not might. The flea definitely wouldn't.), but Shizuo was the better man here; he was nothing like that manipulative bastard.

But first he had to find Izaya, and as the informant had been MIA for several days, Shizuo resigned himself to the fact that his explanation, apology, or whatever the hell it was would have to wait.

"So where is it we're headed anyway, Tom?" Shizuo asked suddenly, surprised by the sound of his own voice in the oddly quiet alleyway they were walking down.

"Park's hangout," his employer replied, "I've already given him several warnings, but now it's time for him to pay up."

The rare frustration in Tom's voice caused Shizuo's brow to furrow as he racked his brain for any recollection of a man named Park. The name didn't really sound familiar, but…

His hands suddenly balled into fists as he remembered a particularly rude Korean he and Tom had visited about two weeks ago. If this Park was the same guy, Shizuo's already shit day was about to get even worse.

"Shizuo…" Tom began with concern.

Shizuo glanced up from the spot on the cement he had been glaring furiously at and felt some of his anger vanish as he noticed the worried look in his employer's eyes.

"Don't get yourself worked up over nothing. You never know, he might be much more cooperative today," said Tom, tilting his head slightly as Shizuo looked away with a frown.

"Yeah, yeah…" returned Shizuo skeptically.

Tom sighed in defeat and continued down the alleyway, his bodyguard following right behind him in brooding silence.

-

Izaya could hardly contain the excitement bubbling in his chest as he raced along the rooftops after that familiar head of bleached-blond hair. He had spent the majority of the past two days setting up for this moment, and he wouldn't miss it for the world. The informant hadn't been this thrilled with one of his plots since well… two months ago when Ikebukuro was at war.

And now he was playing a completely different game that went by very different rules, and where much more was at stake.

Three stories below, Shizuo and Tom were getting closer to the goal Izaya had set up so nicely for them. Well, for Shizuo, anyway. Izaya really couldn't care less whether or not Tom was pleased by his handiwork.

Giggling softly to himself, Izaya decided it was time for him to get a front row seat while he still could and proceeded to hop as silently as possible down the nearest fire escape. He couldn't give himself away, after all. That could ruin his whole plan!

With a very soft tap as the soles of his shoes hit the pavement, Izaya landed behind the wall of a building just one over from where Tom and Shizuo now stood. His heart hammered in his chest, but not from fear. Izaya was giddier than a child let loose in a candy store. Sure, being found out would complicate his plan, but that would also make it more interesting. And, with Shizuo, Izaya could certainly expect the unexpected.

All Izaya could do now was keep on his toes and watch the scene before him carefully.

-

Whatever Shizuo had been expecting from his and Tom's pleasant Korean friend, it certainly hadn't been this.

Tom had knocked politely on the large door of Park's small back alley garage hideout only to receive no answer. The debt collector had only been able to knock once more before his bodyguard had angrily yelled out to the unresponsive men hiding inside.

Despite Shizuo's various colorful threats regarding not only what he would do to the flimsy metal door standing between him and Park but what he would do to the men once he got inside, no response – not even a cry of terror – came from the shady little building.

Just before the bodyguard's foot promptly met the door, Tom placed a hand on his shoulder and pointed down at the handle.

Peculiarity number one: the lock that had been firmly in place on their last visit lay broken on the pavement.

Not ones to pass up a stroke of good fortune, Tom and Shizuo threw the door open, glad that at least their job had been made a little bit easier.

However…

Peculiarity number two was more disconcerting than number one had been.

"Holy-" Shizuo began under his breath, reaching into his pocket hastily for a cigarette.

"What happened here?" asked Tom, his eyes open wide in surprise.

The compact room of the garage had been completely and utterly trashed. Papers were scattered all over the floor along with Styrofoam boxes half full of food and crushed soda cans. Just as Shizuo noticed the dark red splatters that seemed to cover everything in sight, a feeble groan came from behind the pool table that sat in the very center of the garage.

Tom made to take a step forward, but Shizuo put up a hand to stop him.

"I'll check it out," said Shizuo quickly, chewing on the end of his cigarette in thought.

Whoever had done this might still be nearby.

Stepping around the pool table, Shizuo saw a man lying on the floor who might or might not have been Park; he honestly couldn't tell with all of the blood that was caked on the man's swollen face.

"Would you like to tell me what happened here?" questioned Shizuo as gently as he could. His day was already bad enough without him having to play crime investigator.

The broken man on the floor groaned again and attempted to sit up. His frightened eyes met Shizuo's just as a wet cough made its way out of his throat and more blood spattered on the floor around him as he clutched at his stomach.

"J-just…" he gasped softly, breaths coming it in unsteady wheezes, "take it… and… go…!"

Shizuo was about to ask what the hell it was he was supposed to be taking when he noticed the man's eyes flickering pitifully towards the corner of the room.

The bodyguard followed his gaze only to be met with a sight that made his day that much worse.

Over a plain wooden desk towards the front of the room – and still dripping – was the dark green symbol with which the whole of Ikebukuro had become increasingly familiar during the past few weeks.

The fucking Ta-ta-for-fucking-now Jimmys or whatever they called themselves had struck again.

Peculiarity number three, however, was much better for Shizuo's rapidly declining mood than anything else had been that entire day.

"Shizuo, what did he say…? Tom questioned uneasily as a tiny grin began to tug at the corners of Shizuo's lips.

"It was those punks again," replied Shizuo as he strolled cheerfully over towards the desk.

Noticing what it was that had caught his bodyguard's attention, Tom cast his wary glance around the garage and outside alleyway once more. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, and this strange turn of events was doing nothing for his nerves.

"Don't you think this is a little suspicious?" asked Tom.

Shizuo's minuscule grin had blossomed into an all out smile as he reached the desk and began sifting through safe underneath it that had been left wide open, his fingers rapidly counting out the bills that lay inside.

"Suspicious or not, Tom, this definitely made our job easier," Shizuo chuckled.

He had been worried that he might have to hurt someone today if Park insisted on being as stubborn and poorly-mannered as he had on their past visits. Not that he wouldn't have enjoyed finally getting to hit the smug con-artist, but this way Shizuo didn't have to lose any control over himself.

Tom had been right. Park was more cooperative today!

-

From where Izaya now stood hidden just behind the corner of a rundown building, he could see everything perfectly. And why wouldn't he? He had planned every minute detail about this scene himself.

The only thing he wished he could have changed was the irritating presence that was Shizuo's employer. Scowling, Izaya edged further back into the shadows as Tom once more scanned the area with that suspicious glare of his. Since he and Shizuo had arrived at the garage, Tom had looked around the alleyway more times than Izaya could count; the informant had the sneaking suspicion that Tom knew someone was watching them. It was almost as if the other man was trying to ruin Izaya's fun!

But, really, Izaya could only care so much about Tanaka as Shizuo neared the safe. The safe which had so conveniently been left wide open for discovery, thought Izaya to himself with a smirk.

His pulse began to quicken as the tiny upturn of Shizuo's lips grew into a cheerful grin as he replied to something his employer had said to him. A moment later, the impish grin faded, and Izaya had to stop himself from laughed gleefully as he finally saw exactly what he had come for.

Shizuo's smirk had been replaced by a gentle, genuine smile, his warm eyes glimmering with satisfaction and relief as he counted out the money he had for once been able to acquire without having to use any of his brutish strength: the brutish strength Izaya knew Shizuo hated so much.

The sun overhead cast a soft glow on the bodyguard, causing his smile to seem all the more brilliant, and Izaya felt an unfamiliar warmth run through his veins as he gradually began to mimic Shizuo's calm expression. He felt like a thousand butterflies had been trapped in his chest and slightly dizzy, but Izaya couldn't look away from something he had previously only seen before it was replaced by a look of infinite rage: Shizuo's smile was addicting.

Leaning his face against the cool surface of the building he hid behind, Izaya let out a soft sigh. Was this what all of those humans he had been watching felt for one another as passed him by, too distracted by the high they got from being around each other to notice the frustrated look he had been sending their way? Was this warm, tingling feeling spreading throughout his body the very same thing that caused all of those couples to smile so freely around each other while holding hands?

If so, he supposed he could forgive his humans for their strange behavior; this strange feeling could become addicting.

"You don't look like such a monster when you're like this, Shizu-chan…" Izaya whispered softly to himself, feeling another surge of what must have been affection rise in his chest as he watched Shizuo speaking animatedly to Tom, a smile still on his lips.

"In fact, I might even go so far as to say you look almost human," the informant chuckled.

His voice must have been just a little too loud that time, for another pair of eyes suddenly locked onto Izaya's hiding spot.

Biting his lip nervously, Izaya felt all of that addicting warmth leave his body so quickly that he could hardly remember it being there in the first place. His breath caught in his throat, and he stood as still as he could, hoping, hoping…

Tom's eyes narrowed as he peered into the shadows, ignoring the cheerful ramblings of his employee as he tried to see who the hell that whispering had come from; was it the same person he had felt watching them the entire time?

An eternity – that was probably only a matter of seconds – passed before a victorious smirk suddenly spread across Tom's face, the formerly happy sunshine glittering off of his glasses mischievously as he slowly, oh so slowly, turned to Shizuo and said something under his breath.

Izaya glanced around the tight alleyway, heart beating rapidly in his chest now as he considered his options. He could stay where he was and hope that Shizuo – ignorant to Izaya's newly found motive for following him around – would spare him, or he could take his chances and make a run for it.

The informant didn't have any time to weigh his pros and cons as Shizuo began storming over towards the area Tom had pointed out to him; his happy expression a thing of the past. No matter what sort of life-changing revelations Izaya might have had about his feelings towards the bodyguard, there was only one thing his mind was thinking as Shizuo grew nearer and nearer with violence in his eyes.

_RUN, RUN, RUN, RUN!_

So Izaya did just that, bolting from his now defunct hiding spot into the sunlight and right into Shizuo's line of sight.

"Izaya!" exclaimed Shizuo in surprise.

And Izaya could have sworn that Shizuo's tone held none of the anger he had been expecting, that maybe it even sounded pleased. But fuck if he was going to stand around and consider whether or not Shizuo was actually planning on killing him today. After their last encounter, Izaya didn't want to see Shizuo face-to-face until more of the pieces to his game had been set in place. Right now, it was way too risky.

There was certainly no way Izaya could win his abstract little game if he became a broken pile of flesh and blood in some shady alleyway.

Therefore, in the name of future victory and survival, Izaya ignored the cries from the bodyguard behind him and focused on getting far away from the danger zone as quickly as his legs could carry him.

-

"Izaya!"

Shizuo's anger at the mysterious person who had been spying on him and Tom was forgotten, as the person appeared to be exactly the man he had been hoping to see.

His relief at finally finding Izaya was short-lived, though, as – wide-eyed and terrified – Izaya sprinted away from him.

"Fucking cowardly louse!" yelled Shizuo angrily, taking off after the informant; Tom could carry on without him. There weren't any other people in the area, just an annoying flea.

Shizuo refused to lose sight of Izaya. He had been waiting for even a glimpse of the smaller man for days so he could fucking apologize to the bastard, and Izaya was trying to run away?

Shizuo wouldn't stand for it!

Though Izaya darted down narrow, winding alleyways and scaled building after building, that ridiculous jacket of his acted like a red flag for Shizuo, catching his attention just when the bodyguard thought he might have lost his quarry.

"Izaya!" Shizuo tried again as the informant executed a particularly difficult maneuver that had Shizuo scrambling quickly over a wall just to keep Izaya in sight.

"Stop running, Izaya! We need to talk!"

As expected, his words had no effect on the other man. Actually, it looked like Izaya had started running even faster at the sound of Shizuo's voice.

"DON'T IGNORE ME, IZAYA-KUUUN!" roared Shizuo angrily, and before he realized what he was doing, he ripped a questionably stable ladder from the nearest fire escape, the miserable little ladder screeching in pain as it was torn from the building.

Maybe Izaya hadn't heard anything Shizuo had being yelling at him, but he certainly heard the sound of the other man readying a weapon.

Finally, Izaya turned around to face Shizuo, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and horror, only to see the ladder that was now flying through the air straight towards him.

-

Well, fuck.

Izaya had been trying so hard to get away from Shizuo without fighting back, but now the caveman seemed to have lost his patience. In Izaya's defense, though, it's not like Shizuo could have really expected him to stop just because the bodyguard was convinced they "needed to talk" or whatever.

Taking a step back, Izaya felt his back brush up against the wall of the alleyway he had run down, and he blanched. He was stuck between a wall and rusty, airborne ladder.

After the dangerous life Izaya had lead thus far, what a way to go: impaled by a fixture intended for safety. It was almost poetic.

He closed his eyes tightly and braced for impact, body tensing at the thought of metal tearing into his flesh.

Maybe he hadn't been meant to win his best game yet after all…


	6. Chapter 6

For a fraction of a second, Shizuo was certain that his heart had stopped.

He hadn't meant to get angry at Izaya; hell, he was supposed to be _apologizing_ to the goddamn flea! And not only had he snapped and hurled yet another innocent inanimate object at the informant, but the other man wasn't even dodging.

How the fuck was Shizuo supposed to straighten things out with the bastard if he let himself get killed?

"Izaya!" he shouted, and his voice – which he had meant to sound as frustrated as he felt – sounded just a bit too strained, a bit too worried.

-

Maybe it was the realization that he wasn't at all okay with dying so young, or maybe it was the thought of leaving a brilliant plan unfinished.

It could have even been the way Shizuo called his name so anxiously just now and the way Izaya's heart beat quickly in response.

Whatever it was, Izaya was glad that his body had decided to act of its own accord. He had dropped into a crouch at the last second; well, tried to drop into a crouch anyway.

As Izaya opened his eyes, which he had just squeezed shut moments ago, and glanced up, he could see what it was that had halted his motion.

The ladder Shizuo had thrown had gone right through the hood of Izaya's jacket before penetrating itself deeply into the brick wall. The informant let out a breath that sounded too shaky for his liking. Had he not moved, his head would be where his hood was right now.

But things being as they were, Izaya was not dead, and his adrenaline rush was beginning to fade, leaving him with an entirely different list of present concerns.

Shizuo had finally caught up with him, panting heavily as he leaned forwards and placed his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

The bodyguard looked up, and Izaya felt his heart squeeze painfully as those concerned gray eyes met with his.

"Goddammit, flea, I wanted to talk to you," Shizuo growled angrily.

"Oh, rest assured, I heard you, Shizu-chan. And might I say, you're doing a wonderful job with this whole communication thing," commented Izaya with a smirk.

For a moment, Shizuo's brows furrowed in anger, and Izaya thought the other man might hit him; Izaya could deal with an angry, violent Shizuo. He didn't know how to handle this strange, calmer-than-normal Shizuo. So when Shizuo visibly relaxed, his anger replaced by thoughtfulness, Izaya's anxiety only grew.

Why did Shizuo have to pick now of all times to be completely unpredictable?

"You heard me, but you didn't stop, huh?" asked Shizuo, and Izaya could only roll his eyes.

"You idiot, of _course_ I didn't. I figured something like this would happen if I did," Izaya said, pointing up at the object of offense that kept him pinned to the wall.

Shizuo mumbled something under his breath, avoiding Izaya's gaze as he grasped the ladder and wrenched it out of the wall before tossing it aside.

"Eh~? What was that, Shizu-chan?" Izaya questioned innocently as he straightened up from his half crouch. Of course he had heard what Shizuo said – a life of gathering information had perfected his hearing – but it was in his nature to irritate the other man.

"I said I'm sorry, okay?" the bodyguard ground out, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

Izaya giggled at this, slipping out of his jacket as he spoke.

"Shizu-chan apologizing to _me?_ My birthday must have come early this year!" laughed Izaya, as he carefully inspected the hood of his jacket, "However…"

His dark eyes betrayed a bit of his disappointment as he poked his fingers through the sizeable hole made by the ladder.

"Shizu-chan also ruined my favorite jacket," he sighed, raising his gaze to meet Shizuo's, "How could you?"

Before Shizuo could respond with whatever frantic apologies it looked like he was about to splutter – and why the fuck he even cared, Izaya had no idea – Izaya reminded the bodyguard of why he had come chasing after him in the first place.

"So what on earth is it you wanted to talk to me about that's so important you felt the need to chase me through half of the city?" questioned the informant.

At the sudden serious question, Shizuo seemed to clam up, and he raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck uneasily. His eyes were narrowed, and Izaya could tell that he was trying to figure out what exactly he wanted to say. Ordinarily, Izaya would have mocked the blond's inability to organize the thoughts floating around in his feeble mind, but he decided that demeaning another's intelligence was in fact not the best way to get them to like you.

"About the other day… when I attacked you…" began Shizuo nervously, and it was all Izaya could do to smother a fond smile.

That this man who chased after him with such reckless abandon, destroying an entire block just to catch him, could be so self-conscious and unsure was something Izaya should have found hilarious, but now he could only consider it endearing.

Shizuo raised his eyes to see what sort of a face Izaya was making, and the information broker nodded for him to continue, humming softly in the back of his throat to show he was listening.

"I was angry because I assumed you had done something I wasn't really sure you had done. I guess I just thought that you had gotten bored with your old methods for ruining my life…" – Izaya flinched at that, but if Shizuo noticed, he didn't say anything – "I didn't think to ask you about it, though, and now I'm not so sure that it actually was you after all…" Shizuo scowled slightly as he trailed off, looking as though he was not at all pleased with what he was saying.

Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, Shizuo watched Izaya searchingly as he exhaled a pale cloud of smoke. Izaya wanted to speak, to ask Shizuo what the hell he was talking about, but he could tell that the bodyguard wasn't quite done yet.

"All I'm trying to say, Izaya, is that I hurt you for something I might have wrongly accused you of, and I apologize for that. You might be an asshole, but I'm no better if I blame you for every bad thing that happens to me."

Shizuo had probably been expecting Izaya to laugh at him, or to claim he really had done whatever horrible thing Shizuo thought he had, because the blond looked startled by Izaya's reaction.

"Out of curiosity, what is it you thought I had done, Shizu-chan?" asked Izaya as he picked absentmindedly at some loose fur on his jacket. He would have expected Shizuo to ask him about the occurrence before apologizing to him rather than giving him the benefit of the doubt; but since Shizuo had been so generous to him, Izaya knew it wouldn't hurt to return the favorite by dispelling the former bartender's doubt.

A controlled fury smoldered in Shizuo's eyes as he stared at Izaya, all of his previous uncertainty having returned. Despite what Shizuo had said, he still harbored the lingering suspicion that Izaya was guilty.

"Izaya, are you responsible for Kasuka's contract with a British movie studio? He won't be coming back to Japan for two years, and it seemed suspicious because he's never had a job out of the country before, so-"

"So you assumed I had set it up," Izaya finished for him, frowning slightly.

"Was it so crazy for me to think you did?" growled Shizuo, "It's not like it'd be anything new for you."

Well excuse him! Here Izaya was, trying to be as nice to the brute as possible, and Shizuo was insulting him!

Izaya hesitated, caught between his desire to defend his character (not like there was much defense anyway, he had always been a complete dick to Shizuo) and the need for him to play his game flawlessly. His dedication to his game won out, and Izaya forced himself to relax.

"No, I suppose not," conceded Izaya with a shrug, "But I swear I had no part in whatever job your brother was offered, Shizu-chan. I'm actually not surprised that a foreign studio has finally hired him, he is a superb actor after all. Besides, if I really wanted to piss you off, I'd do something to ruin his career."

Izaya chuckled and smirked at the displeased face Shizuo made at his last line. And though normally Izaya so much as suggesting harming Kasuka in anyway would have sent Shizuo into a blind rage, the other man now merely looked relieved.

"Yeah, I guess that sounds about right," muttered Shizuo as he tossed his cigarette to the cement and ground it out with the heel of his shoe.

Nervous about what he might do or say if he stayed any longer, Izaya shifted his gaze about the alleyway, intent on seeking out the best means of escape.

"Can I go now, Shizu-chan? As much as I love having these deep conversations with you, I'm a busy man."

Really, whether or not Shizuo said he could leave, Izaya was getting out of here.

"Yeah, I'm done here. Get the hell out of my sight, flea," Shizuo muttered, waving once of his hands dismissively at Izaya as he turned on his heel to head back to Tom.

Sighing with relief, Izaya began to head down the opposite end of the alleyway, planning on scaling the nearest fire escape and putting as much distance between himself and Shizuo.

Before he had taken more than three steps, a hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist tightly, and pulled him back.

"Izaya…"

Heat spread from the point of contact on Izaya's wrist through the rest of his body. The informant could feel his heart fluttering like a trapped bird in his ribcage, and he was pretty sure he might be blushing.

" _Yes_ , Shizu-chan?" snapped Izaya a bit too sharply, and he instantly felt a pang of guilt.

It's not like Shizuo knew the effect his simple touch was having on Izaya.

There was a tense moment of silence, in which Izaya was sure Shizuo wanted him to at least turn around and look at him, but Izaya wouldn't risk it. Not with the way heat was rising to his face or the unguarded look he probably had in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," the blond whispered softly.

"Didn't we just go through this?" Izaya asked with a forced laugh.

"No, I meant about your jacket. I know you wear it all the fucking time, so-"

Izaya broke off the pitiful apology before it got any worse; was all of that guilt in the bodyguard's voice really because of a little tear in Izaya's clothing?

"Shizu-chan," began the informant with exasperation, "You can't be serious. I'm pretty sure I ruin one of your outfits weekly."

Shizuo said nothing, but his grip on Izaya tightened just slightly. Shit, was the other man really getting that worked up about something so simple as-

_Oh._

Izaya supposed he could understand where Shizuo was coming from. Whenever Izaya destroyed Shizuo's clothing during one of their fights, the blond became enraged. But, if Izaya remembered correctly (and he most certainly did), that was because Shizuo's bartender outfits had been a gift from his brother. Izaya's jacket held no such sentimental value; he had bought it for himself on a whim one day when he was out in Shinjuku.

But it wasn't like Shizuo knew that.

"Shizu-chan…" murmured Izaya, finally chancing to look over his shoulder at the taller man.

Shizuo's eyes widened at whatever he saw in Izaya's expression, and the informant cursed silently to himself. He knew looking at Shizuo right now was a terrible idea. But the damage was already done, so it's not like there was much to do about it now.

"Don't worry about it. It's really no big deal," he assured Shizuo with a genuine smile.

Shizuo looked like he had been about to say something, his gray eyes still impossibly wide, but Izaya pulled his wrist from the bodyguard's grasp and ran for it, scaling the nearby fire escape before Shizuo could even open his mouth.

Though Izaya was certain Shizuo wasn't chasing him, he still sprinted across the rooftops of Ikebukuro, frantic to get as far away from the other man and the feelings he sparked within him.

His wrist still tingled from the aftereffects of Shizuo's touch, and a small, foolish part of Izaya's mind was urging him to turn around.

Cursing under his breath, Izaya lunged onto another rooftop and stifled the crazy thought.

If he weren't more careful, he could ruin everything.

-

"What the hell…" Shizuo groaned to himself as soon as Izaya was out of sight.

He ran one of his hands through his bleached hair tiredly. Maybe it had just been a really fucking long day, but once again, Shizuo was pretty sure he had seen something's in the flea's eyes that Izaya hadn't meant for him to see.

Those dark eyes, normally so cold and cruel, had held something in them that Shizuo could almost call affection.

_Affection?_ The flea?

Izaya had been so close to him this time that Shizuo really couldn't brush it off as a trick of the light this time. And the gentle way Izaya had spoken to him right before disappearing over the wall of the now-lonely alleyway… Shit.

Fleas didn't have feelings!

But Shizuo wouldn't deny that he was pleasantly surprised about being able to carry on a completely civil conversation with the other man wherein no threats or punches were exchanged. It was probably the first real conversation Shizuo had had with anyone other than Tom in…

An embarrassingly long time.

_God,_ and with fucking Orihara Izaya of all people!

Shizuo was determined to forget the matter entirely, and turned to go find Tom, but the bright glimmer of sunlight off of metal caught his attention.

Shizuo walked over to the strangely familiar-looking item on the ground where it lay underneath the fire escape and, as he bent to pick it up, realized why it was that it looked so goddamn familiar.

It was Izaya's flickblade, blade still safely concealed. The louse must have dropped it in his hurry to get away from Shizuo.

Turning the small weapon over in his hands, Shizuo scowled to himself as another inconsistency arose. Not only had Izaya been acting abnormally normal and polite (he had insulted Shizuo once, and that had been right after Shizuo had nearly killed him), but Shizuo just now noticed that he hadn't even drawn his knife.

Now why would that be?

Either Izaya had somehow forgotten he even carried a weapon – which was completely absurd – or he simply didn't want to draw it on Shizuo.

"Fuck, flea," groaned Shizuo, pinching at the bridge of his nose to stifle the pounding in his head, "You're not even here and you're givin' me a headache."

Izaya could have hurt Shizuo today, but he hadn't, and the bodyguard really had no clue why. It's not like Izaya didn't have a reason after what happened last time Shizuo had chased him down.

And then he had spoken to Shizuo so tenderly.

If that didn't make Shizuo feel even more guilty about losing his patience and chucking a freaking ladder at him, then he didn't know what would. Izaya had looked so frightened, too…

"What kind of a louse lets me attack him and doesn't even fight back?" Shizuo grumbled.

He ran his index finger along the handle of the flickblade he held, drawing out the blade thoughtfully and examining it in the sunlight. This blade had cut into Shizuo's flesh countless times in the past several years; Hell, it was his first memory he had of the annoying flea.

Reaching into his pocket for another cigarette, Shizuo began to make his way back to his employer (who was probably wondering where the hell he had run off to).

Even as he grew nearer to where Tom was waiting, his gaze was still locked on the small blade.

"I guess I should return you to Izaya, huh?" he asked it.

At the thought of the louse, Shizuo felt something tug curiously at his heart, and he scowled in confusion.

Maybe Izaya wasn't the only one who had something wrong with him.


	7. Chapter 7

The box had been sitting on Izaya's desk for the better part of the morning, unopened, untouched, and – most importantly – unmarked. Though Izaya had a pretty good idea who had left the mysterious package on his doorstep the previous night, he knew better than to open curious little boxes.

Especially in his line of work.

It was seven o'clock, and Izaya only had half an hour remaining before Namie got there. If he wanted to open the box, he knew he should do so before his assistant arrived unless he wanted to answer a slew of probing questions. But if the box really did contain something dangerous, it would probably be better to wait until Namie came so that Izaya could have her open it…

"Oh, to hell with it," Izaya grumbled as he tapped the top of the cardboard box, "You've been harassing me all morning, and I really can't wait any longer."

The informant dove one of his hands into the pocket of his jacket to grab his knife, and he paused – a sly grin working its way across his face – as his fingers reached the bottom of his empty pocket.

How could he have forgotten? He had "accidentally" left his flickblade behind the last time he had run into Shizuo. Though Izaya had always considered Shizuo to be a bit dense, he hoped the other man was at least smart enough to realize that Izaya hadn't pulled his knife on him once during their last encounter.

Grinning at his own genius, Izaya began rifling through one of the drawers under his desk, certain that he kept a pair of scissors somewhere.

As soon as he gripped the pair of blades, he returned to the box with an expression of mock sorrow on his face.

"I hope you can forgive me for this. As soon as I cut you open, there will cease to be anything intriguing about you, and you will once more be a plain, cardboard box," apologized the informant.

He paused in anticipation for a moment before plunging the scissors into the top of the box and tearing them along the feeble tape that held it closed.

Despite what Izaya had been expecting, his eyes still widened in disbelief as the contents of the package were revealed to him.

"Shizu-chan…" he breathed, a giddy smile beginning to tug at the corner of his lips.

As always, Shizuo had proven to be unpredictable.

-

Groups of friends enjoying another beautiful – albeit cloudy – day in Ikebukuro scrambled out of the way as quickly as they could as Heiwajima Shizuo stalked by. The bodyguard's pale eyes were downcast, his brows furrowed just slightly, and he wore a dark scowl. Today was his day off, so Tom wouldn't be there to stop Shizuo if he suddenly snapped, which – to the panicked onlookers – he looked dangerously close to doing.

Shizuo was oblivious to the frantic citizens around him, for once not angry or irritated, but lost in thought.

Had it been a good idea to leave that package (he refused to call it a gift) for Izaya, or had he just played right into the flea's hands?

And if he had, what the hell did the flea want from him?

If Izaya really did have some master plan involving Shizuo, then the blond was pretty sure it wasn't simply to guilt him into buying the goddamn flea new clothing.

A businessman walking near Shizuo gave a particularly unmanly squeak as Shizuo absentmindedly kicked a bottle cap down the street out of frustration.

And then there was the fact that Izaya hadn't even attempted to defend himself the last time he encountered Shizuo…

The flea could be initiating some sort of truce, Shizuo thought. Maybe their destructive fights had become too much for him, and he had decided that making Shizuo's life a living hell wasn't worth the hassle anymore.

"Tch, like hell," grumbled Shizuo half-heartedly, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Maybe, though, just maybe…

Could Izaya not be planning anything at all?

No matter what Shizuo knew about the scheming bastard, he couldn't forget the way the flea had looked at him last time they had spoken.

God, did that sound weird. If anyone had suggested even a week ago that Shizuo would one day hold a civil conversation with Orihara Izaya, he would have crushed them.

Not only had Shizuo spoken with Izaya, but he hadn't felt the overwhelming need to hit the other man repeatedly each time he opened his mouth. And it was all because of that weird look in the flea's dark eyes.

Izaya must have thought he was keeping his mask in place perfectly, or that Shizuo was a lot less observant than he was, because while he had been able to keep his expression relatively neutral as he had spoken with Shizuo, his eyes had given him away completely.

The louse had to be sick or something; Shizuo could think of no other explanation for that smitten look.

No one had ever looked at Shizuo with that sort of adoration before, and he couldn't believe that anyone would now. At twenty-five years of age, the bodyguard had never had someone look at him like he was something important before.

Even if it was the flea of all people, Shizuo wasn't really in the position to be picky.

The beginnings of a faint smile were chased away as a dark cloud settled over the blond's thoughts.

No one…

Not even Kasuka had ever looked at him quite like that.

"Kasuka…" murmured Shizuo, suddenly remembering how little time he had left before his little brother left the country for who knew how long.

What had started as a wonderful day had been ruined in an instant.

-

Izaya smiled to himself and nuzzled his face against the soft material of his brand new jacket. Perhaps it wasn't something the informant would have picked out for himself, as it certainly wasn't the least bit threatening, what with its white fabric and bright pink buttons, but the fact that it was a gift from Shizuo canceled out any complaints Izaya might have.

Not to mention that he could smell the bitter scent of Shizuo's cigarettes on the jacket. If Izaya closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that Shizuo was in the room with him.

The informant let out a sigh that was half fawning and half frustration as the door at the other end of his office clicked open softly, announcing the arrival of Yagiri Namie.

Reluctantly, Izaya opened his eyes to the sight of his assistant, who appeared to be biting her lip in an attempt to hold in a fit of giggles.

Her gaze darted from Izaya to the stack of files waiting for her on the coffee table and back again.

Frowning slightly, Izaya ran his fingers along the reacquired flickblade in his pocket and rolled his eyes.

"In the interest of time, Namie, please just spit out whatever's on your mind. I'd rather not have you tittering about the office all day while I'm trying to work," said the informant, a bit too haughtily for his liking.

The erratic twitching of Namie's face grew into a malicious grin, and her eyes glimmered with amusement.

"It's just… You really do get more and more masculine every day, Izaya," the woman remarked, "Why the change in attire? Was your black, fluffy jacket not intimidating enough for you anymore?"

Izaya crossed his arms over his chest and held his chin up in mock offense, huffing under his breath.

"I'll have you know that this was a gift from Shizu-chan. But perhaps you don't quite understand the concept, as the object of your perverse affections seems wholly oblivious to your feelings. Ne, Namie~?" he replied.

Namie's eyes widened, and she was pretty sure that her jaw would have hit the floor if it could. As things were, however, she settled with a sharp intake of breath.

Insult aside, had her boss just admitted to harboring affection for Heiwajima Shizuo?

Perhaps she really was still sleeping, because this was a dream come true. Izaya had held her complex for Seiji over her head for far too long, it was about time she had some dirt on him.

Izaya scowled as he watched his secretary absorb this new information. If she was going to react so calmly, then there really hadn't been much point in intimating his feelings for Shizuo to her, an where was the fun in that?

Namie didn't disappoint, though, as she suddenly burst into a fit of sharp laughter, hands clutching her sides.

"Y-you and Heiwajima-san?" Namie managed to question between her laughter, "You have to be _kidding_ me!"

Izaya was about to respond with what he was certain was a brilliant comeback to shut Namie up, but the woman interrupted him before he could speak.

"There's no way Heiwajima-san knows about whatever sick feelings you have for him. You might think that man's some sort of monster, but he'd certainly never accept someone like you, Izaya. And even if you weren't a complete freak, you'll always be Orihara Izaya to him," she said, wiping away a stray tear that had appeared during her laughter.

Silence was all that met Namie's words, and she chanced a look in her boss' direction, wondering if she had perhaps finally crossed the line.

What she saw made her day. Hell, Namie was pretty sure it made her year.

Izaya had turned away from her, facing his computer with a peculiar look on his face. His eyes were tensed, and it looked to Namie as though his lips were quivering just slightly, debating whether or not frowning before her would be a good idea.

He stood without another word, striding past his surprised assistant and pausing just as he placed his hand on the doorknob of the office.

"When I get back, all of today's work better be done," muttered Izaya flatly before he left, slamming the door behind him.

Irritation flared in Namie's breast for a single moment as she realized how large of a workload Izaya had just left her with, but she remembered the look of what must have been the great Orihara Izaya's version of pain, and her joy instantly returned.

It had been worth it, decided Namie as she went to start on the piles of work Izaya had left her with, humming cheerfully to herself all the while.

-

Shizuo had really been hoping he'd be able to enjoy his day off peacefully. Sure, his mood had declined since he had woken up, but he wasn't about to let that ruin his plans to bask in the warm summer sun and revel in the sights and sounds of Ikebukuro.

So he was more than a little disappointed when he felt rage beginning to flow through his veins like ice, numbing him to nearly every sensation but the furious pounding of his heart and the trembling of his fists.

"Like, ohmygod! Are you serious?" a shrill female voice gasped not seven feet from where Shizuo now stood.

"Yeah," her friend replied, waving one of her hands at her companion, "I read it in a fan magazine last week. He won't be back for at least three years."

"No! How could Hanejima do this to us? I love him!" the first girl nearly sobbed.

Though Shizuo was trying to do his best to control himself – grinding his teeth in frustration as he battled with his anger – he wasn't so sure he would win against his temper this time.

These stupid girls thought they knew Kasuka? They thought their worlds would end without their beloved Hanejima Yuuhei?

How dare they pretend they knew him! They didn't really care about Kasuka!

"Movies just won't be the same without him! There aren't any actors more talented or beautiful than Hanejima," pouted one of the girls.

Shizuo swore he felt a vein near his temple pop, and a single feral growl managed to escape his throat as he glared daggers at the two teenage girls. Anger was beginning to overwhelm his common sense, and a terrified voice in the back of Shizuo's mind cried out in horror.

What was he doing? He couldn't get angry at a couple of adolescent girls! He might be Heiwajima Shizuo, the strongest man in Ikebukuro, but he was still a gentleman! Shizuo wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he lost control and hurt these girls.

Hell, he'd probably kill them! They were so small compared to him…

"Now I'll never be able to marry him…" the second girl said sadly, and Shizuo swore he saw a tear glimmering down her face, "No one will ever compare to him! He's totally the hottest guy I've ever seen, Haruka!"

Whatever her friend's reply was, Shizuo couldn't hear it over the roaring in his ears. His blood was pumping too quickly through his veins for him to focus now.

These girls thought they cared about Kasuka, thought they loved him just because they thought he was attractive? They had no fucking right to be broken up about him leaving!

As Shizuo reached for the nearest projectile, an unfortunate trashcan, those around him seemed to finally notice his presence and began to scatter, leaving a clear line between him and the oblivious teenagers.

Even as Shizuo's fingers dug into the hot metal surface of the trashcan, he didn't register what it was he was about to do. A woman yelled in terror, and the two girls finally looked to see Heiwajima Shizuo aiming his unorthodox weapon for them, but Shizuo had already pulled his arms back, ready to send the trashcan flying.

It was too late for him to stop, and the girls looked too shocked to move. Shizuo was really going to kill two innocent kids just because–

"Eh? Shizu-chaaaaan~! Fancy seeing you here on such a beautiful day!"

The familiar, grating voice acted like a jolt of electricity to Shizuo's system, stunning him and stopping him in his tracks.

Whatever spell had hung over the tense scene was broken, and the girls ran, crying out in fear as their legs carried them quickly away from the monster of Ikebukuro.

And even though Shizuo knew he'd feel guilty later for what he had almost done, relief flooded his system as he let the trashcan drop to the ground.

He had never once thought he'd be as happy, as _grateful_ to hear the flea's voice as he was in that moment.

-

Namie's carefully aimed barbs had finally gotten to Izaya, he'd admit it. As much time as he spent harassing the woman, he had never stopped to consider that she might one day cross some unspoken line and give her employer a taste of his own medicine.

If Izaya believed in it, he supposed he'd say it was karma.

He should have expected that his clever little assistant would take the bait he had accidentally dangled before her. Izaya's main intention had been to make Namie jealous, not to make a stupid mistake like letting her know about his newly realized feelings for Shizu-chan.

Shit, he might as well have stood on his rooftop and yelled to all of Shinjuku that he loved Heiwajima Shizuo for all the damage Namie would be able to do with her new bit of information.

Not only would his reputation suffer if Namie decided to tell anyone else, but – dammit – that wench's words had really hurt. Is this what she felt like every time Izaya harassed her for her brother complex?

_He'd certainly never accept someone like you._

Ugh! Izaya refused to believe that the stinging in his eyes was due to anything other than the wind in his eyes. He was not going to cry over something that foolish woman had said to him!

"I'll show you, Namie. I am not incapable of being loved," growled Izaya under his breath as he leapt onto yet another rooftop, moving closer and closer to who knew where.

Well, actually…

Now that Izaya stopped in his mad dash away from his apartment and examined the buildings around him, he saw that he was headed towards the heart of Ikebukuro. He hadn't meant to go straight towards the home of his biggest problem, but he supposed now that he was here he might as well work on his plan a little.

Perhaps a little progress would help Izaya forget about Namie's cruel comment. And if progress somehow didn't make the informant feel better, he knew the mere sight of his quarry would.

Izaya's heart fluttered in his chest at the thought, and he smiled. Even the mere anticipation of possibly feeling that high again made him giddy.

He took off across the familiar rooftops, sprinting and leaping across four story drops with reckless abandon as he looked for his unsuspecting prey.

It was a Saturday, so Shizuo wouldn't be working, but while that made things easier for Izaya in the "not having to deal with Tom" department, it would certainly make finding the monstrous blond more difficult.

Barely five minutes had passed before Izaya caught sight of a very familiar head of bleached hair in the crosswalk below.

He froze, reaching into his pocket for his knife nervously as he tried to decide on the best way to approach Shizuo. His mind was made up for him the moment he realized what exactly was going on down below.

Shizuo was holding an undoubtedly heavy trashcan over his head, his jaw tensed with fury as he aimed for his target: a pair of teenager girls frozen in horror as they gazed upon the man who could very well be their murderer.

No one looked like they were about to come to the girls' rescue, too shocked by the scene unfolding in front of them to act. The only one in the area who seemed to be thinking clearly was the informant watching it all happen from three stories up.

Heart pounding loudly in his ears, Izaya hardly heard his own voice call out to Shizuo.


	8. Chapter 8

Anger and gratitude warred within Shizuo for a long moment as he peered up at the informant several stories above him. He was so used to becoming enraged whenever he saw the flea that the reaction was practically reflexive. But Izaya had done Shizuo a favor this time, hadn't he?

Grinding his teeth, the bodyguard forced himself to relax.

Whether or not he was going to attack Izaya, Shizuo had still planned on replying as normally to the informant as he could with some short, rude remark.

"Yo-" Shizuo's jaw froze mid-word, still open, as he noticed the difference in Izaya's appearance.

Izaya was actually wearing the weird pink-and-white jacket Shizuo had found for him. And he was wearing it out in public. Orihara Izaya, asshole extraordinaire and destroyer of lives, willingly wearing the fluffy white jacket his mortal enemy had given to him.

What the _fuck_ was wrong with Izaya?

While Shizuo had been staring, the informant had quickly made his way down from the rooftop to the street, and now stood not six feet from Shizuo, his hands in the pockets of his new coat and his customary, shit-eating smirk plastered on his face.

"So you've finally taken to harassing teenage girls, I see," Izaya giggled in that irritating way of his that normally made Shizuo's blood boil.

Normally, but not today for some reason.

"Personally, I think it's a bit more fun to watch their expressions of horror as I crush their cell phones, but to each his own I suppose," said the informant with a shrug.

"Why are you…" Shizuo began uncertainly, and Izaya's eyes widened at the sound of the bodyguard's voice.

"Hmm, Shizu-chan? 'Why am I…?'" he questioned, tilting his head slightly to the side.

Shizuo scowled, hating how calm the flea was. If things were like they usually were, the two of them would be halfway across the city by now, Shizuo pelting whatever he could after the goddamned informant while Izaya ran for his life.

And yet there they stood, just… talking. What did Shizuo want to ask anyway?

Why are you here? Why did you stop me? Why have you been acting so strange?

Unable to decide on what he wanted to know, Shizuo settled on:

"Why are you wearing that?" he finally asked, and instantly wished he could take back his words. Not only had the question been incredibly stupid, but the happy grin on Izaya's face was creeping him out!

"Oh, this?" chuckled Izaya as he pulled lightly on the sleeves, "Some stranger left it for me this morning. Rich or not, Shizu-chan, I still appreciate free things, and since you sort of ruined my old jacket, I decided I might as well wear this one. Besides, I think it's cute."

Shizuo's eyebrows twitched as his face tried to decide on the proper expression needed to show his shock; had Izaya really just called something cute? And something Shizuo had picked out for him, no less.

Whatever Shizuo thought he should be feeling, it certainly wasn't pleasure.

Heat began to rise along the back of his neck, and Shizuo lit a cigarette in agitation as he averted his gaze from the flea.

Why should he care whether or not Orihara fucking Izaya liked a present – no, NO! It was definitely not a present – Shizuo had gotten for him?

"It's really girly, flea," grumbled Shizuo derisively, but the insult sounded weak even to him.

"To each his own, Shizu-chan~" Izaya chuckled in return and then, before Shizuo could think of a decent reply to the informant, he quickly added, "You're off today, right?"

The unexpected question caused Shizuo to raise his eyebrows and look at the flea once more. He had detected something akin to nervousness in the question that caused him to examine Izaya a bit more carefully, taking in the tense figure of the informant. Izaya's hands were buried deep in the pockets of his coat and his eyes flickered from Shizuo to the ground and back again uncertainly as he did his best to hide his true emotions behind a mask of proud indifference.

A devilish smirk appeared on Shizuo's face and it was all he could do not to laugh. He had never seen Izaya act anything less than one hundred percent confident. He would have to take advantage of this once in a lifetime opportunity before it was gone.

"What's it to you?" he growled, and Izaya glared at him.

"I was only wondering, Shizu-chan, since I'm already headed there, and I really don't want you harming any of my beloved humans with that brutish strength of yours…" the informant paused, and Shizuo caught the slightest hint of frustration pass over the louse's face.

"If you would like to come to lunch with me," he finished softly.

Shizuo didn't even notice his cigarette fall from his mouth to the pavement.

_What?_

A variety of confused thoughts ran through the bodyguard's head, the loudest of them being that he needed to take Izaya to Shinra immediately, because something was very, very wrong with him and it might be contagious.

"W-what…?" Shizuo managed, staring wide-eyed at the smaller male.

Glowering, Izaya looked away from him, perhaps convinced that the motion would keep Shizuo from noticing the embarrassed blush that was working its way across Izaya's face and up to his ears.

"You. Me. Lunch. Don't make me repeat myself, Shizu-chan," Izaya ground out, and Shizuo noted with pleasure the way Izaya's shoulders hunched just slightly as he spoke.

It was so tempting to continue harassing the flea until he snapped, but something kept Shizuo from replying cruelly. The little louse just looked so goddamn unsure of himself, he wouldn't feel right being mean when Izaya was acting so vulnerable.

"I guess, flea. I didn't really have any other plans for today anyway. You're paying, though," Shizuo conceded with an awkward shrug as he reached into his pocket for another cigarette.

Nearly giving himself whiplash, Izaya turned back to Shizuo, his dark eyes wide with shock as though he wasn't sure he had heard right. If Shizuo had known the informant could make such an entertaining face, he would have started being nice to him years ago.

"Well, c'mon, louse. I don't have all day," muttered Shizuo, jerking one of his thumbs in the direction of Russia Sushi.

Izaya's expression of surprise slowly gave way to something much gentler, and he grinned up at Shizuo. It wasn't his normal impish grin, but a genuinely happy smile that Shizuo couldn't help but mirror back at him. The blond was pretty sure his heart might have even skipped a beat. And though Shizuo had no idea why, he found himself feeling pleased that he had been the cause of such an honest expression of happiness on the informant's face.

Uncertainty completely forgotten, Izaya's eyes once more glimmered with confidence as he brushed by Shizuo and began walking towards the small restaurant down the street.

"Follow me then, Shizu-chan~!" giggled Izaya cheerfully.

-

Despite the happy face Izaya wore on the outside, he was angrily cursing himself in his mind as he led Shizuo down the sidewalk.

What the hell was he thinking? He had meant to work on his personal project a bit, but he hadn't intended to do anything too drastic today. But before he could think twice, the unexpected invitation had tumbled out of his mouth, his chest tightening at the thought of leaving Shizuo so soon and desperate for a way to make him stay.

If Izaya weren't more careful, he really was going to ruin everything!

Due to his little slip up, though, he would get to spend more time with Shizuo.

A little smile crept across Izaya's lips. Just this once, he decided, he supposed he could forgive himself for such a careless mistake. As soon as the words had left his mouth, Izaya was sure Shizuo would strike him down – emotionally or physically – but as always, Shizuo had done the unexpected, and now the informant couldn't seem to get off this little high of his due to Shizuo's acceptance.

Strange, fuzzy feelings aside, this whole "love" thing really was troublesome. Izaya knew he would have to be more careful about his behavior around Shizuo in the future unless he wanted to destroy his whole plan.

Izaya sneaked a timid glance up at the behemoth of a man he walked beside only to feel himself blush for the second time that day.

Shizuo was staring down at him, his brows knitted together with thought just slightly as though he were trying to figure something out. Being so used to dealing with angry Shizuo and only angry Shizuo, Izaya wasn't certain how he should react to being scrutinized so carefully by the other man.

Before Izaya could open his mouth to ask the bodyguard what his problem was, the blond finally spoke up.

"Once we get inside, you're explaining to me what the hell's wrong with you, Izaya," said Shizuo gruffly.

Unable to stop the stupid grin that once more tugged at the corners of his lips at hearing himself referred to by Shizuo as something other than an insect, Izaya was surprised to see the way the bodyguard looked away quickly as though he had seen something he shouldn't have.

"There's nothing wrong with me," Izaya replied, "But I'll gladly humor whatever game of twenty questions it is you'd like to play."

Izaya could practically feel the irritation rolling off of Shizuo in waves as the other man bit his cigarette against an angry retort. Really, though, love struck or not, Izaya would never pass up a chance to get under the ex-bartender's skin unless it stopped being fun.

Which, unfortunately for his lovely Shizu-chan, it hadn't yet, so too bad for him~

An imposing figure came into view as he and Shizuo drew closer to the small sushi restaurant, and Izaya instantly felt his body go cold.

How could he have forgotten about Simon? The informant wasn't ready for the Ikebukuro rumor mill to go crazy about him and Shizuo yet! But if he turned around now, Simon would only make more wild assumptions that Izaya would have to deal with.

More importantly, he wouldn't get to spend any extra time with Shizuo.

Expression as self-confident as ever, Izaya raised one of his arms in greeting to Simon as the massive Russian man noticed Ikebukuro's Most Destructive walking towards him.

"Ah! Izaya, Shizuo!" said Simon warmly as the two men stopped before him, "So good to see you two not fighting. This never happens! Are you finally coming to eat sushi as friends?"

Next to Izaya, Shizuo made a very un-Shizuo sort of gurgling noise in the back of his throat as he nearly choked on his cigarette.

"F-friends?" Shizuo spluttered, "Me 'n the flea? H-how…! You know us, Si-"

"Of course, Simon~ Shizu-chan and I are the best of friends!" interrupted the smaller male with a giggle that was so cheerful it was borderline psychotic.

"The hell, flea?" growled Shizuo, a vein near his temple pulsing dangerously.

It was a miracle that the bodyguard didn't snap when Izaya suddenly wrapped his arms around one of Shizuo's and began dragging him towards the restaurant. Shizuo jerked back, not enough to completely dislodge Izaya, but enough to make the informant lose his footing so that the only thing keeping him from hitting the ground was his grip on Shizuo.

" _Izaya-kunnn…_ " Shizuo hissed dangerously.

Scowling, Izaya stood on his toes so that he could whisper into the blond's ear, his dark brown eyes narrowed in frustration.

"Unless you want to receive a lecture on the wonders of friendship, you idiot, I suggest you get moving," he threatened.

With one more furious look at Izaya, Shizuo began to storm the rest of the way towards the doors of Russia Sushi, but not before Simon and Izaya could share a brief exchange.

While Izaya was enjoying his close proximity to Shizuo, Simon chuckled a few words of Russian to the informant, his dark face contorted in amusement as Izaya stared back at him with wide eyes.

Izaya knew there was only one way to react to Simon's question without giving anything away.

At the price of further irritating Shizuo, Izaya burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, merely shaking his head at Simon and uttering one of the only Russian words Shizuo recognized.

"Nyet, Simon, nyet!" breathed Izaya in between giggles.

"What did he ask you?" Shizuo grumbled as the informant pushed him through the doors of the small sushi restaurant, away from an unconvinced Simon.

Izaya put on his best innocent face as he looked up at Shizuo.

"What did who ask me, Shizu-chan~?"

"Don't fuck with me, flea. Simon," growled Shizuo, wrenching his arm from Izaya's grasp.

Izaya would never admit that the loss of contact left him feeling a little hurt, even if he had deserved it. A pout was dangerously close to appearing on his face, but he managed to cover it up with a sinister smirk.

"Let's sit down first, Shizu-chan. You're not going to like it."

-

Well, this was awkward.

The last time Shizuo could remember eating lunch with the goddamned flea was back when they were both still in high school. And even then, it had been forced, the two students having been dragged unceremoniously into Russia Sushi by Simon. Never had Shizuo ever considered that he might one day be sitting across the table from the flea willingly.

Other than a very angry sounding "What the hell are you looking at?", no words had been exchanged between the two since about fifteen minutes ago when Izaya had practically shoved Shizuo into a booth towards the back of the restaurant. Actually, no words had been exchanged between them at all, since Shizuo hadn't even been talking to the flea, but rather to a particularly daring group of teenagers sitting nearby who had been staring at the two men since they had walked in together.

While Shizuo grappled for what he wanted to say Izaya, which of the millions of questions bouncing around his brain he wanted to ask first, Izaya was watching Shizuo calmly, his signature, smarmy little smirk back on his face.

At least one thing was still right in the world, decided Shizuo.

Swallowing what Shizuo was pretty sure was Izaya's twelfth piece of ootoro (where did the man put all that food?), the informant rapped his fingers against the tabletop thoughtfully and cocked his head to the side.

"Alright, Shizu-chan, spit it out. You're going to give yourself a headache if you keep all of those thoughts bottled up," Izaya said, his voice not nearly as condescending as Shizuo would have liked, and the bodyguard swore the flea's eyes had even softened a bit.

Shizuo glared at Izaya half-heartedly, angrier about being forced to decide on his question than he was about Izaya's words.

"What did Simon say to you? You said I wouldn't like it," growled the blond.

The smaller man sitting across from him looked not at all surprised by the question, his smirk growing slightly. Damn it, was Shizuo getting predictable?

"Oh, that?" giggled Izaya, his dark eyes glimmering with mischief.

"He asked if we were on a date."

A long moment of silence stretched between the two, Izaya's smirk falling, and Shizuo completely unable to decide how to react. He was certain he was giving the flea a priceless look of blank horror, but he didn't really care.

How could Simon even think-?

Shizuo heard a stifled snicker from the booth behind him, and he considered punching the offending teenagers through the thin booth seat that separated them from Ikebukuro's Strongest, but he had more important matters to focus on.

Breathing deeply, Shizuo forced himself to calm down, making sure his tone was completely even as he replied.

"Well, are we?"

Now it was Izaya's turn to look surprised, his dark eyes widening.

"Why would-"

Shizuo didn't bother letting the flea finish, as the informant would probably only say something to distract Shizuo and lead him further away from the truth. He was going to find out what the fuck was wrong with the louse, and he was going to find out now.

"You can't fault me for asking, Izaya," Shizuo began gruffly, "You've been acting really weird since that day I accused you of setting up Kasuka's new job. You could've killed me, but you didn't, and I want to know why, flea. You're acting stranger than normal, and I don't like it."

Izaya tensed, resting the side of his face against his fist and looking anywhere and everywhere but at Shizuo. He appeared understandably frustrated by such a direct question, but he was also worrying his bottom lip in a manner Shizuo would call nervous.

Haha, now that was rich. The flea, nervous? This was exactly the odd behavior Shizuo had been talking about!

"Are you really complaining about not being killed, Shizu-chan? Because if it bothers you that much, I can always rectify the situation," sneered Izaya, but Shizuo wouldn't have it.

"Just answer the question, you little shit," Shizuo growled.

Izaya sighed and muttered something under his breath that was likely far from flattering; Shizuo barely caught the world "Neanderthal".

"It's not like you're going to believe me anyway," Izaya snapped, finally making eye contact with the bodyguard again, "I didn't kill you when I had the chance because… because I didn't want to."


End file.
